Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Sunday, May 17, 2009
The Four Day Blog Week
Since mankind has been doing too much for too long, a natural recession has taken place.
However, what is a recession but a fiscal representation of the necessary action: Get rid of the bloat and focus on the meat.
So, starting today, we will be moving to the four day blog week. I know, I know, how will you live without my five posts each week?
To survive with only FOUR? That’s a twenty percent decrease. HAVE I GONE MAD?
No…but comes a time when a man gets busy and the blog has to be a little less and the other work has to be a little more.
An adjustment.
We’ll all just take a deep breath…and adjust.
Namaste.
However, what is a recession but a fiscal representation of the necessary action: Get rid of the bloat and focus on the meat.
So, starting today, we will be moving to the four day blog week. I know, I know, how will you live without my five posts each week?
To survive with only FOUR? That’s a twenty percent decrease. HAVE I GONE MAD?
No…but comes a time when a man gets busy and the blog has to be a little less and the other work has to be a little more.
An adjustment.
We’ll all just take a deep breath…and adjust.
Namaste.
Friday, May 15, 2009
All Nighter
Hilarity?
Insanity?
Both?
I had a big emailing project to do and during the day, I cannot get anything done…emails and phones and things…work out…eat. It just takes over.
I’ve always been a late night person, but tonight took the cake.
Hitting the hay at 6:30 AM.
How did I do it? CAFFEINE! It so works. Three cups of Typhoo tea…honestly, I could walk to Montauk right now.
Lucky (or Unlucky) me---I am very affected by drugs. I take a swig of Nyquil, I’m out for eleven hours. I drink three cups of tea, I can stay up for twenty-four.
The one area where this is very positive is in avoiding alcoholism. I never got used to alcohol, still get pretty tanked on two glasses of wine, so I have been spared becoming an alcoholic and I am a notoriously cheap date.
But friends…staying up all night is fun. The dawn dawns. The birds chirp. It has been peaceful all night long with no interruptions and now---I get to sleep until at least noon.
I highly recommend it. Makes you feel like a kid again. And then, you can just relax the next day because you got all that stuff done.
I could see how you could really write a novel this way…in like three months.
I wonder if you would hit a wall?
Insanity?
Both?
I had a big emailing project to do and during the day, I cannot get anything done…emails and phones and things…work out…eat. It just takes over.
I’ve always been a late night person, but tonight took the cake.
Hitting the hay at 6:30 AM.
How did I do it? CAFFEINE! It so works. Three cups of Typhoo tea…honestly, I could walk to Montauk right now.
Lucky (or Unlucky) me---I am very affected by drugs. I take a swig of Nyquil, I’m out for eleven hours. I drink three cups of tea, I can stay up for twenty-four.
The one area where this is very positive is in avoiding alcoholism. I never got used to alcohol, still get pretty tanked on two glasses of wine, so I have been spared becoming an alcoholic and I am a notoriously cheap date.
But friends…staying up all night is fun. The dawn dawns. The birds chirp. It has been peaceful all night long with no interruptions and now---I get to sleep until at least noon.
I highly recommend it. Makes you feel like a kid again. And then, you can just relax the next day because you got all that stuff done.
I could see how you could really write a novel this way…in like three months.
I wonder if you would hit a wall?
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Bird Orgy
Like locusts they are!
Pigeons are fucking everywhere you turn.
Lucky for me, I can open my bathroom window and toss water on the pigeons that are trying to start a family under my air conditioner in the main room.
I wouldn’t mind them so much, if they weren’t so loud!
All the guttural mating. And the fluttering of the wings.
And the girl, she wants it! Bad! She sits below the A/C on the windowsill, hunkering down, shaking her tail feathers (I finally know what that really means).
And Mr. Pigeon is all puffed up, making his noise.
I say, CHECK INTO A MOTEL 6!
As if the busses and the kids on their skateboards aren’t enough outside my window four stories below…now I have to listen to this bird fucking?
I just keep tossing water at them. It’s my form of avian birth control.
Probably, the stress of this water boarding is going to kill these damn birds. I bet they need to mate or they get sick with the backed up sperm and useless egg.
But I don’t care. We certainly don’t need any more pigeons in Queens!
A few days ago, there was a seagull flying around. I kind of liked that. Then, I thought, “Must be a load of garbage nearby.”
Birds… they really are filthy. I say…stay in the trees and away from my appliance.
Pigeons are fucking everywhere you turn.
Lucky for me, I can open my bathroom window and toss water on the pigeons that are trying to start a family under my air conditioner in the main room.
I wouldn’t mind them so much, if they weren’t so loud!
All the guttural mating. And the fluttering of the wings.
And the girl, she wants it! Bad! She sits below the A/C on the windowsill, hunkering down, shaking her tail feathers (I finally know what that really means).
And Mr. Pigeon is all puffed up, making his noise.
I say, CHECK INTO A MOTEL 6!
As if the busses and the kids on their skateboards aren’t enough outside my window four stories below…now I have to listen to this bird fucking?
I just keep tossing water at them. It’s my form of avian birth control.
Probably, the stress of this water boarding is going to kill these damn birds. I bet they need to mate or they get sick with the backed up sperm and useless egg.
But I don’t care. We certainly don’t need any more pigeons in Queens!
A few days ago, there was a seagull flying around. I kind of liked that. Then, I thought, “Must be a load of garbage nearby.”
Birds… they really are filthy. I say…stay in the trees and away from my appliance.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
No Longer Waiting for Godot
I have never seen a production of Waiting for Godot before tonight. I have read the play many times. When I was a junior in college, studying in Paris, Oliver Platt was starring in Waiting for Godot at my college, Tufts University, which I obviously missed. I missed the Lincoln Center production with Steve Martin and Robin Williams (thank goodness). There was a production at Harvard in the 80’s. I was nearby. I missed that one, too. I simply never saw Waiting for Godot before tonight.
With great pleasure, I must announce that this is a wonderful production and well worth seeing and if you are near New York, you should see it.
This play is so monstrously sad. It is funny, in its way. (The woman next to me, all dark curls, would laugh at something particularly strange and dark and turn toward me for approval of her experience. I have never liked that.)
You had to be Irish and depressed to write this play. It is so deeply lyrical and so densely filled with pessimism. It has this oddly light touch with a survivalist instinct marked by intimacy and the floppy inability to get it together to find enough strong rope to hang oneself.
Bill Irwin as Vladimir was a bit too light on his toes for me. Very clownish in that he walked and elbowed around very angular and loose, I would have liked to have seen him more authoritative. Nathan Lane, ever a crowd pleaser, could have been more of a sad idiot instead of a borscht ham. These attributes, heady boss and bumbling fool, are right on the page. Why not play them? Stage stars will play their tricks. Their tricks did fit, though, so the spirit of the play remained completely intact. I say, then, this play must be so good…because all you have to do is bring your humanity to it and it works.
John Goodman as Pozzo was perfectly overbearing, huge and pathetic. And John Glover as Lucky delivered the insane, repetitive “thinking” monologue that is the true heart of this piece in such a way, you just want to go out into the streets screaming over your wretched humanity.
The set is all gray Joshua Tree Moonscape. Having lived in California for years, I liked that the whole thing felt very America West.
Human souls, unprotected, waiting for a savior, with questionable memories, needing each other but desiring to be alone and to die, repeating the same thing day after day, with nothing but their own pain and games to distract and amuse themselves….this is quite the crux of the modern era. It howls. It howls. It sticks to you.
With great pleasure, I must announce that this is a wonderful production and well worth seeing and if you are near New York, you should see it.
This play is so monstrously sad. It is funny, in its way. (The woman next to me, all dark curls, would laugh at something particularly strange and dark and turn toward me for approval of her experience. I have never liked that.)
You had to be Irish and depressed to write this play. It is so deeply lyrical and so densely filled with pessimism. It has this oddly light touch with a survivalist instinct marked by intimacy and the floppy inability to get it together to find enough strong rope to hang oneself.
Bill Irwin as Vladimir was a bit too light on his toes for me. Very clownish in that he walked and elbowed around very angular and loose, I would have liked to have seen him more authoritative. Nathan Lane, ever a crowd pleaser, could have been more of a sad idiot instead of a borscht ham. These attributes, heady boss and bumbling fool, are right on the page. Why not play them? Stage stars will play their tricks. Their tricks did fit, though, so the spirit of the play remained completely intact. I say, then, this play must be so good…because all you have to do is bring your humanity to it and it works.
John Goodman as Pozzo was perfectly overbearing, huge and pathetic. And John Glover as Lucky delivered the insane, repetitive “thinking” monologue that is the true heart of this piece in such a way, you just want to go out into the streets screaming over your wretched humanity.
The set is all gray Joshua Tree Moonscape. Having lived in California for years, I liked that the whole thing felt very America West.
Human souls, unprotected, waiting for a savior, with questionable memories, needing each other but desiring to be alone and to die, repeating the same thing day after day, with nothing but their own pain and games to distract and amuse themselves….this is quite the crux of the modern era. It howls. It howls. It sticks to you.
I am Anti Anti-Trust
Look, my mobile phone, internet service, online stuff, all of it, is working so well now that I am a total slave to AT&T like in the old days.
Why can’t we just leave it alone? Isn’t my life fragmented enough?
It’s all AT&T all the time and I have no complaints. In fact, I love them. Their customer service works. I don’t feel totally gauged.
If my awesome liberal friends in Washington want to do something liberal with the monster corporations---WHY NOT JUST TURN THEM INTO UTILITIES??? Highly regulated, government watched utilities. If you are a very successful corporation, the price you pay for your big monopoly is you become utilitzed!
This breaking things up, in a weird way, is actually a right wing thing. It’s all about competition. The endless addiction to competition. Is anyone besides me sick of fighting?
I never have to fight with AT&T. Okay---I bet some of you hate AT&T. I am sure there are horror stories. As for me, I have none. I am pleased. I pay that bill online and the links always work and my phone always works, in Europe, too. Satellites, yay!
This political swinging—right, left, left, right---I understand it is the natural way of things. I say swing on, BUT KEEP THE THINGS THAT WORK!
Let AT&T be monstrous. Focus on something much more important my liberal friends: MAKE THIS HEALTHCARE THING WORK. I have allergies.
Why can’t we just leave it alone? Isn’t my life fragmented enough?
It’s all AT&T all the time and I have no complaints. In fact, I love them. Their customer service works. I don’t feel totally gauged.
If my awesome liberal friends in Washington want to do something liberal with the monster corporations---WHY NOT JUST TURN THEM INTO UTILITIES??? Highly regulated, government watched utilities. If you are a very successful corporation, the price you pay for your big monopoly is you become utilitzed!
This breaking things up, in a weird way, is actually a right wing thing. It’s all about competition. The endless addiction to competition. Is anyone besides me sick of fighting?
I never have to fight with AT&T. Okay---I bet some of you hate AT&T. I am sure there are horror stories. As for me, I have none. I am pleased. I pay that bill online and the links always work and my phone always works, in Europe, too. Satellites, yay!
This political swinging—right, left, left, right---I understand it is the natural way of things. I say swing on, BUT KEEP THE THINGS THAT WORK!
Let AT&T be monstrous. Focus on something much more important my liberal friends: MAKE THIS HEALTHCARE THING WORK. I have allergies.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
The Sun Also Sets
This is the view from my window in Queens. A room with a view is essential. When I lived in New York during my tender twenties, I always looked skyward or headed into the park to spend time with trees.
One of the greatest things about Queens, in addition to its reputation as being unhip, is the flat expanse. Perhaps it is because I have lived in Los Angeles for so many years, but I like a good sprawl loaded with plants.
Every evening, if I am lucky enough to be home, I sit in front of my window and watch the sunset over Manhattan. I look across five miles of trees that obscure most of the man made things. Then, there is the foggy rise of the vapor off the East River and after that, Gotham in all its sharpness.
I love Manhattan. What a marketplace. And furthermore, it has Central Park.
But what I cannot get over is how much my small apartment feels like a cabin in the sky because of all this light and these trees and the sunset.
I am a radical sunset chaser. At dinner parties, I beg people to come outside with me when the sun is setting. (I also love the early morning light, but I am so rarely awake for it.)
Living on the fourth, fifth or sixth floors of a building is clearly the way to go. You want branches.
And a view is so important. You can just sit there and think...
I did lift one of the screens and it fell down four stories. I went down and retrieved it.
One of the greatest things about Queens, in addition to its reputation as being unhip, is the flat expanse. Perhaps it is because I have lived in Los Angeles for so many years, but I like a good sprawl loaded with plants.
Every evening, if I am lucky enough to be home, I sit in front of my window and watch the sunset over Manhattan. I look across five miles of trees that obscure most of the man made things. Then, there is the foggy rise of the vapor off the East River and after that, Gotham in all its sharpness.
I love Manhattan. What a marketplace. And furthermore, it has Central Park.
But what I cannot get over is how much my small apartment feels like a cabin in the sky because of all this light and these trees and the sunset.
I am a radical sunset chaser. At dinner parties, I beg people to come outside with me when the sun is setting. (I also love the early morning light, but I am so rarely awake for it.)
Living on the fourth, fifth or sixth floors of a building is clearly the way to go. You want branches.
And a view is so important. You can just sit there and think...
I did lift one of the screens and it fell down four stories. I went down and retrieved it.
Thursday, May 07, 2009
Something has happened. Spring. The trees in my neighborhood are leafed out.
Birds are chirping. The blooming cherry trees are dropping their final petals. Pink carpets everywhere. Yes friends, this is QUEENS I’m talking about.
What it does to me is very simple. I no longer notice buildings, cars, skate boarders, busses or trash. All I see is trees. Are trees? Trees.
I can stare at a tree for fifteen minutes. Let’s face it. We are monkeys. Serious ones with tanking Roth IRA’s. But who cares! We have trees! And bananas.
Okay, I bought the bananas at Met Foods.
In California, there is much discussion about “Beach People” “Mountain People” and “Desert People”. During one of these discussions up in Santa Barbara, a woman from Great Britain (or was it New Zealand?) said, “I’m a rain person.”
I guess I would have to say, simply, that I am a tree person. Flat out woods are fine with me. I think I’ll sprout a ringed tail.
Birds are chirping. The blooming cherry trees are dropping their final petals. Pink carpets everywhere. Yes friends, this is QUEENS I’m talking about.
What it does to me is very simple. I no longer notice buildings, cars, skate boarders, busses or trash. All I see is trees. Are trees? Trees.
I can stare at a tree for fifteen minutes. Let’s face it. We are monkeys. Serious ones with tanking Roth IRA’s. But who cares! We have trees! And bananas.
Okay, I bought the bananas at Met Foods.
In California, there is much discussion about “Beach People” “Mountain People” and “Desert People”. During one of these discussions up in Santa Barbara, a woman from Great Britain (or was it New Zealand?) said, “I’m a rain person.”
I guess I would have to say, simply, that I am a tree person. Flat out woods are fine with me. I think I’ll sprout a ringed tail.
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
The Plumb Line of the Uterus
I have returned from leafy upstate New York not far from where I was born. You can feel it when you are at the latitude where you came into the world. It just makes sense.
Monday, May 04, 2009
Don't Go Into the Junglemix.in
Facebook is under attack, a phishing attack that is, and it is the second time in the past few weeks that the social netowrking giant has been under fire. The newest Facebook phishing scam, Junglemix.in, acts the same way as the previous FBStarter assault.
The Junglemix.in phishing attack redirects to a fake Facebook site called fblight.com where Facebook users are shown a fake log in page or assaulted by malware. To avoid falling victim to Junglemix.in DO NOT in any way accept the junglemix.in link if it is sent to you on Facebook.
The Junglemix.in phishing attack redirects to a fake Facebook site called fblight.com where Facebook users are shown a fake log in page or assaulted by malware. To avoid falling victim to Junglemix.in DO NOT in any way accept the junglemix.in link if it is sent to you on Facebook.
Sunday, May 03, 2009
Murdertown
If you would like to make a call, please hang up and dial again.
If you would like to follow the twitter novel, MURDERTOWN, go to
twitter and sign up, do a search for DonCummings and follow.
In MURDERTOWN, read how they try to take Twitter down.
If you would like to follow the twitter novel, MURDERTOWN, go to
twitter and sign up, do a search for DonCummings and follow.
In MURDERTOWN, read how they try to take Twitter down.
Friday, May 01, 2009
Are We Hog Wild? Or H1N1--
People are running around like lunatics, washing their hands, wearing masks, keeping their kids home from school and eating, solely, canned foods.
There has been a push to call this swine flu H1N1…but how can you call something so piggy a couple of letters with two ones?
When you read about the definition of H1N1, apparently, it’s the general term for most strains of flu since they have been testing strains…the same strain as the Spanish flu from 1918 that killed millions of people worldwide.
So, if people really did call this flu H1N1, instead of Swine Flu, and they grew curious and then looked it up, they would see that millions of people have died from it during the Twentieth Century.
This might not make them treat pigs any better.
I don’t believe in contracting the flu. It’s bad for you. Furthermore, it could be deadly.
Swine flu is Swine flu by any other name. H1N1 sounds even worse.
Wash your hands. And wait for this media cycle to end. Hype. Or is it?
There has been a push to call this swine flu H1N1…but how can you call something so piggy a couple of letters with two ones?
When you read about the definition of H1N1, apparently, it’s the general term for most strains of flu since they have been testing strains…the same strain as the Spanish flu from 1918 that killed millions of people worldwide.
So, if people really did call this flu H1N1, instead of Swine Flu, and they grew curious and then looked it up, they would see that millions of people have died from it during the Twentieth Century.
This might not make them treat pigs any better.
I don’t believe in contracting the flu. It’s bad for you. Furthermore, it could be deadly.
Swine flu is Swine flu by any other name. H1N1 sounds even worse.
Wash your hands. And wait for this media cycle to end. Hype. Or is it?
Thursday, April 30, 2009
I recently read that Twitter has a very low retention rate of users.
Understandable.
Twitter so annoys me, I started to write an annoying Twitter novel on Twitter with the exact goal to bring Twitter down.
Of course, I could get over my technology induced A.D.D. and simply ignore all these new ways to “Get-it-out-there.”
But I get so much pressure from my friends…like, “But you blog all the time, you should twitter!”
And I think, “Why? I’m blogging!”
Plus, let’s face it, blogs devolve. I understand now why I should have had a blog that went hedgehog deep instead of fox curious.
But I am fox curious…So there sits my blog with it’s fluffy orange tail.
But this twitter? I want it to go down like Dick Cheney.
I don’t think Dick has lost his mind. I think it was always gone and now, he just doesn’t care if we see it. What a freakish monster.
Understandable.
Twitter so annoys me, I started to write an annoying Twitter novel on Twitter with the exact goal to bring Twitter down.
Of course, I could get over my technology induced A.D.D. and simply ignore all these new ways to “Get-it-out-there.”
But I get so much pressure from my friends…like, “But you blog all the time, you should twitter!”
And I think, “Why? I’m blogging!”
Plus, let’s face it, blogs devolve. I understand now why I should have had a blog that went hedgehog deep instead of fox curious.
But I am fox curious…So there sits my blog with it’s fluffy orange tail.
But this twitter? I want it to go down like Dick Cheney.
I don’t think Dick has lost his mind. I think it was always gone and now, he just doesn’t care if we see it. What a freakish monster.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
A Specter in the Eye of the Right Wing
That smarts. Poor Republicans.
My only fear, and it is a real one, is that Obama will get everything he wants…and it still won’t work.
And if that happens---then, we are simply doomed.
HOWEVER, I don’t believe that will happen.
I believe he is going to get HEALTH CARE majorly revamped. And the new ENERGY ECONOMY started up. But Education and the Economy are still going to be a problem
We don’t do either one of those things well any longer. Too Boomy and stupid for too long.
Specter is now a monstrous hero. He was wise to abandon his small minded party. They have nothing going right now.
Dreams of the adrenalin boosting filibuster, gone.
Is that the whizzing sound of legislation going through? Without someone reading a book of recipes aloud?
Nice.
My only fear, and it is a real one, is that Obama will get everything he wants…and it still won’t work.
And if that happens---then, we are simply doomed.
HOWEVER, I don’t believe that will happen.
I believe he is going to get HEALTH CARE majorly revamped. And the new ENERGY ECONOMY started up. But Education and the Economy are still going to be a problem
We don’t do either one of those things well any longer. Too Boomy and stupid for too long.
Specter is now a monstrous hero. He was wise to abandon his small minded party. They have nothing going right now.
Dreams of the adrenalin boosting filibuster, gone.
Is that the whizzing sound of legislation going through? Without someone reading a book of recipes aloud?
Nice.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Oh My Piggies!
Look that Swine Flu right in its pig slit of an eye and simply say, “I WILL HAVE NONE OF YOU!”
Also…it wouldn’t hurt to wash your hands.
Ever since I have become a big ol’ hand washer, I almost never get sick.
Whenever I come in from dealing with the public, shaking hands, or sitting on a plane…I simply wash those hands of mine.
Of course, it could all just be the placebo effect that saves me. No matter! I’ll take a placebo anytime!
But back to this flu. You know, I remember when SARS was in its big outbreak. We were on our way to France. Passengers at LAX were wearing masks. I was nervous, but I didn’t think I’d actually get a touch of SARS.
The hype of this piggish disease, this swine flu, this what-can-you-do-swine-flu, this porky inconvenience, it’s right up there with the West Nile Virus and the Avian Flu. Quack Quack.
I am celebrating the financial and medical fracturing of our earth by accepting the idea that we are all one…and we are all affected by the misdeeds of men and pigs.
Also…it wouldn’t hurt to wash your hands.
Ever since I have become a big ol’ hand washer, I almost never get sick.
Whenever I come in from dealing with the public, shaking hands, or sitting on a plane…I simply wash those hands of mine.
Of course, it could all just be the placebo effect that saves me. No matter! I’ll take a placebo anytime!
But back to this flu. You know, I remember when SARS was in its big outbreak. We were on our way to France. Passengers at LAX were wearing masks. I was nervous, but I didn’t think I’d actually get a touch of SARS.
The hype of this piggish disease, this swine flu, this what-can-you-do-swine-flu, this porky inconvenience, it’s right up there with the West Nile Virus and the Avian Flu. Quack Quack.
I am celebrating the financial and medical fracturing of our earth by accepting the idea that we are all one…and we are all affected by the misdeeds of men and pigs.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
There's Got to Be a Morning After Pill
Plan B is so genius, it should thrill everyone. Not only do you NOT need a prescription, it’s not even abortion. It just keeps sperm and egg from uniting.
IT’S LIKE A CONDOM IN PILL FORM! (without the benefit of protecting you from disease, sad.)
But there it is! The magic pill we’ve all been waiting for. It stops conception from occurring. How brilliant. Even the Catholic church never stated, “Life begins at the moment sperm slops into the vagina.”
And what is the reaction of the conservative, anti-abortion right? They hate it.
At this point, you just have to think these people hate sex. Pure and simple. Sure, they don’t want to terminate pregnancies, but horrifyingly, these are people who think every sex act should happen after marriage and end with a baby. They are irresponsible, crazy people.
Plan B. It’s the plan you come up with when the human race has multiplied like rabbits and half those rabbits are insane.
IT’S LIKE A CONDOM IN PILL FORM! (without the benefit of protecting you from disease, sad.)
But there it is! The magic pill we’ve all been waiting for. It stops conception from occurring. How brilliant. Even the Catholic church never stated, “Life begins at the moment sperm slops into the vagina.”
And what is the reaction of the conservative, anti-abortion right? They hate it.
At this point, you just have to think these people hate sex. Pure and simple. Sure, they don’t want to terminate pregnancies, but horrifyingly, these are people who think every sex act should happen after marriage and end with a baby. They are irresponsible, crazy people.
Plan B. It’s the plan you come up with when the human race has multiplied like rabbits and half those rabbits are insane.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
The Norman Conquests
So lucky was I to see The Norman Conquests today at a matinee at Circle in the Square. Alan Ayckbourn wrote three plays that take place over one weekend in three different locations: the dining room, the living room and the garden.
They are entitled, respectively, Table Manners, Living Together and Round and Round the Garden.
We saw Living Together. In the Living Room.
It was simply very humorous, directed with perfect pitch timing by Matthew Warchus, with a cast of stellar people you may or may not have heard of: Amelia Bullmore, Jessica Hynes, Stephan Mangan, Ben Miles, Paul Ritter and Amanda Root.
Each character is a bit of a type. Comedy, afterall. The silliness is tinged with desperate sadness. Stephan Mangan, playing Norman, is the seducer, pulling everyone possible into his horny, needy clutches. It is not so much farce as it is drawing room comedy at a high pitch.
The three plays fit together like a puzzle, so if you go back to see another one of the plays, you get to see the action going on in the other room or garden. And, if someone exits in one of the plays with a basket, that entrance is seen in the other play, with the same character carrying the basket. It’s all pretty cool and it takes a quick and big mind to pull off this kind of writing. Alan Ayckbourn takes about two weeks to write a play. This is true and not a criticism. Though the stuff does not run too deep, it does run quite truthful. So what the heck! Smart guy. He has written about seventy plays.
Clever. Enjoyable. Extremely well done. It’s the Old Vic production from London.
Head on over. If you are feeling energetic, go to one of the days when you can see all three plays. Bring a bagged lunch.
They are entitled, respectively, Table Manners, Living Together and Round and Round the Garden.
We saw Living Together. In the Living Room.
It was simply very humorous, directed with perfect pitch timing by Matthew Warchus, with a cast of stellar people you may or may not have heard of: Amelia Bullmore, Jessica Hynes, Stephan Mangan, Ben Miles, Paul Ritter and Amanda Root.
Each character is a bit of a type. Comedy, afterall. The silliness is tinged with desperate sadness. Stephan Mangan, playing Norman, is the seducer, pulling everyone possible into his horny, needy clutches. It is not so much farce as it is drawing room comedy at a high pitch.
The three plays fit together like a puzzle, so if you go back to see another one of the plays, you get to see the action going on in the other room or garden. And, if someone exits in one of the plays with a basket, that entrance is seen in the other play, with the same character carrying the basket. It’s all pretty cool and it takes a quick and big mind to pull off this kind of writing. Alan Ayckbourn takes about two weeks to write a play. This is true and not a criticism. Though the stuff does not run too deep, it does run quite truthful. So what the heck! Smart guy. He has written about seventy plays.
Clever. Enjoyable. Extremely well done. It’s the Old Vic production from London.
Head on over. If you are feeling energetic, go to one of the days when you can see all three plays. Bring a bagged lunch.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
The Dying Dog Show: Four Months Later
My beloved Louise has been dead for four months.
Tonight, it hit me again.
To spare you the image of a middle aged guy sobbing alone in an apartment over his dead pooch, I will not describe it in detail.
But I will jump in here with this—loss is so awful, yet we survive it and I am very impressed with that. I imagine grief is the brain’s mechanism to release the connection to something that is no longer here? I don’t really understand grief. We had some dogs that didn’t last in our house growing up. Only one, JJ, really upset me.
Dogs.
I hear the only way to really get over your dead dog is to get another one.
Tonight, it hit me again.
To spare you the image of a middle aged guy sobbing alone in an apartment over his dead pooch, I will not describe it in detail.
But I will jump in here with this—loss is so awful, yet we survive it and I am very impressed with that. I imagine grief is the brain’s mechanism to release the connection to something that is no longer here? I don’t really understand grief. We had some dogs that didn’t last in our house growing up. Only one, JJ, really upset me.
Dogs.
I hear the only way to really get over your dead dog is to get another one.
Monday, April 20, 2009
420 The Pot Calling the Right Wing Black
Okay, the title doesn’t scan.
But, seriously, pot is a drug, like alcohol and nicotine, and so, you know, we might as well sell it as such, tax it, then use the money to build high speed rail.
I think the Republican Party is being taken over by libertarians. I’d rather have them than the tighty-righties with their Christianism. (Though, truly, I have nothing against Christ. I’m a little insane myself.)
So, it is no surprise that the Republicans are couching this whole “Fuck it…let people smoke weed” thing in dollar bills. Business is business.
I wonder, I do, how we do so well (formerly) as a nation when we are driven by profit yet are also fearful of anything pleasurable. At least dissociated from anything pleasurable. Or even more, dissociated, then blissed out, followed with guilt.
I think Pot is not as innocuous as people say it is. I think there are problems with it. It is addictive (at least habit forming). It is a hallucinogen (I’ve seen people lying low on my sofa and floor because of the stuff). And it can cause anxiety and paranoia (Okay, that’s me).
So, being a bit of a moderate lefty, I feel like we must get very truthful about weed. Box it pretty. Sell it at Walmart. But like cigarettes, there should be warnings all over it. And, maybe this---a limit on how much you can buy? Is that too controlling?
I do not believe all drugs should be legal. I believe Cocaine and all kinds of speed, hard opiates, big hallucinogenics, are pretty destructive. But Pot? It’s just kind of destructive. Like Glenlivet.
So, bring it on, this legalization. Then, give health care to all. Legalize Gay Marriage. Start selling Gouda. And presto! We’re Holland.
Holland is pretty cool. I wish their official name was Holland and not The Netherlands.
But, seriously, pot is a drug, like alcohol and nicotine, and so, you know, we might as well sell it as such, tax it, then use the money to build high speed rail.
I think the Republican Party is being taken over by libertarians. I’d rather have them than the tighty-righties with their Christianism. (Though, truly, I have nothing against Christ. I’m a little insane myself.)
So, it is no surprise that the Republicans are couching this whole “Fuck it…let people smoke weed” thing in dollar bills. Business is business.
I wonder, I do, how we do so well (formerly) as a nation when we are driven by profit yet are also fearful of anything pleasurable. At least dissociated from anything pleasurable. Or even more, dissociated, then blissed out, followed with guilt.
I think Pot is not as innocuous as people say it is. I think there are problems with it. It is addictive (at least habit forming). It is a hallucinogen (I’ve seen people lying low on my sofa and floor because of the stuff). And it can cause anxiety and paranoia (Okay, that’s me).
So, being a bit of a moderate lefty, I feel like we must get very truthful about weed. Box it pretty. Sell it at Walmart. But like cigarettes, there should be warnings all over it. And, maybe this---a limit on how much you can buy? Is that too controlling?
I do not believe all drugs should be legal. I believe Cocaine and all kinds of speed, hard opiates, big hallucinogenics, are pretty destructive. But Pot? It’s just kind of destructive. Like Glenlivet.
So, bring it on, this legalization. Then, give health care to all. Legalize Gay Marriage. Start selling Gouda. And presto! We’re Holland.
Holland is pretty cool. I wish their official name was Holland and not The Netherlands.
State of Play
I like a hard boiled movie.
I like journalism.
I like Russell Crowe (why two Ls? Yes.) a lot. Investigative reporter gone to seed. Fat and hairy and still very sexy.
And Helen Mirren is everyone’s favorite strong woman. The boss of the paper.
Ben Affleck is still very handsome and likable and, well, you know, he could always be better. Sorry Ben. One roots for you. With your long face. Ben seems to be holding onto youth with all four limbs. The congressman.
Robin Wright Penn, beautiful and simple. The wife of the congressman.
Rachel McAdams got her job done.
And how about that slime ball Jason Bateman? He played the nastiest weasel I’ve seen in a long time. Kind of brilliant. The PR guy with some good information. I smell Oskie.
The story is one of those stories that I have a hard time following. But I followed this one, all the way through, to the end. The movie had me. It was smart. It was suspenseful. It had well developed characters with very complicated relationships.
However, the final twist was very unsatisfying and, really, almost ruined the whole thing for me.
Why did the story end like that?
I will only reveal this about the plot, in such vague terms: New journalism (blog) versus old journalism (paper). Mercenary military companies. Paranoia. A congressman going after the bad mercenary military guys. An affair. Spying. A nasty hired killer killing for whom? Russell Crowe is the middle aged reporter guy, with the big gut and the long hair…figuring out what really went down. The whole time, teaching Rachel McAdams what it is to be a real reporter.
Look…it’s better than a lot of other stuff out there. Plus, I was really in the mood for a movie.
Russell Crowe fans. Go.
Ben Affleck fans. Go.
Helen Mirren fans. Eh.
Newspaper thriller fans. Go.
State of Play
Now, what on earth does the title have to do with anything? I don’t know.
I like journalism.
I like Russell Crowe (why two Ls? Yes.) a lot. Investigative reporter gone to seed. Fat and hairy and still very sexy.
And Helen Mirren is everyone’s favorite strong woman. The boss of the paper.
Ben Affleck is still very handsome and likable and, well, you know, he could always be better. Sorry Ben. One roots for you. With your long face. Ben seems to be holding onto youth with all four limbs. The congressman.
Robin Wright Penn, beautiful and simple. The wife of the congressman.
Rachel McAdams got her job done.
And how about that slime ball Jason Bateman? He played the nastiest weasel I’ve seen in a long time. Kind of brilliant. The PR guy with some good information. I smell Oskie.
The story is one of those stories that I have a hard time following. But I followed this one, all the way through, to the end. The movie had me. It was smart. It was suspenseful. It had well developed characters with very complicated relationships.
However, the final twist was very unsatisfying and, really, almost ruined the whole thing for me.
Why did the story end like that?
I will only reveal this about the plot, in such vague terms: New journalism (blog) versus old journalism (paper). Mercenary military companies. Paranoia. A congressman going after the bad mercenary military guys. An affair. Spying. A nasty hired killer killing for whom? Russell Crowe is the middle aged reporter guy, with the big gut and the long hair…figuring out what really went down. The whole time, teaching Rachel McAdams what it is to be a real reporter.
Look…it’s better than a lot of other stuff out there. Plus, I was really in the mood for a movie.
Russell Crowe fans. Go.
Ben Affleck fans. Go.
Helen Mirren fans. Eh.
Newspaper thriller fans. Go.
State of Play
Now, what on earth does the title have to do with anything? I don’t know.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Lovely Humans
I know, you’ve already watched it sixteen times and you keep crying---
But that’s okay.
The eye rollers in the audience. You are one of them. The fearful one.
But the not-so-pretty woman on that stage. You are her. We all are. That’s why you relate to it so much. We’re all so ugly with the beauty within. Right? I think that is the note she really hit. And so, we go on.
Keep singing.
I bet she does get kissed. By Simon.
On another note: Obama is not a Socialist. Stop it.
Watch it one more time:
Susan Boyle on Britain’s Got Talent
But that’s okay.
The eye rollers in the audience. You are one of them. The fearful one.
But the not-so-pretty woman on that stage. You are her. We all are. That’s why you relate to it so much. We’re all so ugly with the beauty within. Right? I think that is the note she really hit. And so, we go on.
Keep singing.
I bet she does get kissed. By Simon.
On another note: Obama is not a Socialist. Stop it.
Watch it one more time:
Susan Boyle on Britain’s Got Talent
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Eat My Bullets
I had never been on The Intrepid before. What a boat.
Now that there is a reasonable guy as president, the thought of war is not so scary to me. It has returned to something akin to, "It's over there, somewhere, vague, but I have stuff to do."
So--big nasty machinery, removed from the threat of reality, is pretty powerful looking stuff. You can feel the need to climb right into this helicopter and parade around like you are the most powerful badass mofo who ever zipped through...Oh who am I kidding? I'd never do that. I was in a helicopter over Kaui with my Recognized-by-the-State-of-California Domestic Partner and his parents, and I just closed my eyes and couldn't wait for it to be over.
But let's say I wasn't me for a minute. I get the power.
But let's say I am me for a minute...and this is true. I think I am crazy enough to lay fifteen nuclear warheads along the Afghani-Paki border. If nothing else, make the place inhospitable for those upstarts.
Bet there'd be less meetings after that.
Now that there is a reasonable guy as president, the thought of war is not so scary to me. It has returned to something akin to, "It's over there, somewhere, vague, but I have stuff to do."
So--big nasty machinery, removed from the threat of reality, is pretty powerful looking stuff. You can feel the need to climb right into this helicopter and parade around like you are the most powerful badass mofo who ever zipped through...Oh who am I kidding? I'd never do that. I was in a helicopter over Kaui with my Recognized-by-the-State-of-California Domestic Partner and his parents, and I just closed my eyes and couldn't wait for it to be over.
But let's say I wasn't me for a minute. I get the power.
But let's say I am me for a minute...and this is true. I think I am crazy enough to lay fifteen nuclear warheads along the Afghani-Paki border. If nothing else, make the place inhospitable for those upstarts.
Bet there'd be less meetings after that.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Bullies on the High Seas
I love dead pirates. Especially when they are shot by snipers.
Bullies are awful.
Perhaps this killing will send a signal back to the would-be pirates currently struggling in Somalia.
It is very sad that a country is so awful that many of its young turn to crime, of some nature, in order to survive.
I am not so naïve to believe the rich West can solve all these problems for unfortunate people in unlucky nations. And sometimes, you just have to shoot them.
Sticks. Carrots. Shaming. Appeasement. Killing. Allowing. Bending. Standing straight up. Raising the bar. Acceptance. Punishing. Rewarding.
All these ways? Yes. And so few of them, almost none of them can solve the problem.
You pick one or two---mix them up---measure. Adjust. Try again. Measure. Adjust.
And while you are measuring, things change. Keep an eye out.
And carry guns.
Bullies are awful.
Perhaps this killing will send a signal back to the would-be pirates currently struggling in Somalia.
It is very sad that a country is so awful that many of its young turn to crime, of some nature, in order to survive.
I am not so naïve to believe the rich West can solve all these problems for unfortunate people in unlucky nations. And sometimes, you just have to shoot them.
Sticks. Carrots. Shaming. Appeasement. Killing. Allowing. Bending. Standing straight up. Raising the bar. Acceptance. Punishing. Rewarding.
All these ways? Yes. And so few of them, almost none of them can solve the problem.
You pick one or two---mix them up---measure. Adjust. Try again. Measure. Adjust.
And while you are measuring, things change. Keep an eye out.
And carry guns.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Les Temps
Speaking with R.K., an actor friend we ran into from Los Angeles who actually lives in New York, we got on the subject, the endlessly dull subject of the differences between NY and LA.
He went on about the superiority of NY because of the abundant culture, the mixing of people and the inherent greater morality the city's citizens have to offer. Especially, one appreciates this environment for raising kids. Sure, there is more tradition and guilt here.
I added, "But LA...the weather!"
And he responded, "Shame on you if you live somewhere for the weather."
He is right. Shame on me.
But spring is maybe finally fucking hitting New York and I have to say, I would rather not be walking around when the streets of Queens and Mahattan are howling winter at me. It really makes a difference.
Central Park today:
(YES!)
He went on about the superiority of NY because of the abundant culture, the mixing of people and the inherent greater morality the city's citizens have to offer. Especially, one appreciates this environment for raising kids. Sure, there is more tradition and guilt here.
I added, "But LA...the weather!"
And he responded, "Shame on you if you live somewhere for the weather."
He is right. Shame on me.
But spring is maybe finally fucking hitting New York and I have to say, I would rather not be walking around when the streets of Queens and Mahattan are howling winter at me. It really makes a difference.
Central Park today:
(YES!)
Sunday, April 12, 2009
reasons to be pretty
I’ve always been a fan of Neil LaBute. I loved In the Company of Men. Cynical, truthful, shot so flat and real, harsh and honest.
He and Solondz, they were the men for me.
He kept on. I’ve seen much. By the time he got to FAT PIG, I thought, “Fat pig? Really?”
Felt like a whole lot of shark jumping to me.
Then, yesterday, we saw reasons to be pretty. I am many degrees wrong.
reasons to be pretty is very smart, fantastic to listen to, straight out and flat to watch, sad and honest.
I hope it does very well.
Acting is pitched right. Deep enough. But also, the language is handled musically and pedestrian at the same time. Actors (and I saw one understudy) were: Thomas Sadoski, Anne Bowles, Steven Pasquale and Piper Perabo.
Direction is muscular and smooth. Economized and adult. By Terry Kinney. No slouch.
Set design is sad—palettes of big box store items framing the stage. Much of the play takes place in the break room. Pathetic, slave location. Needing to break out. David Gallo here.
I think the title is misleading. Perhaps this is purposeful. This play is really about a weak guy learning how to grow up, to be brave, to tell the truth. Even with the chosen lower casing of the title...
But then what would you call it? “The Break Room?”
I don’t know.
Rarely have I been to a play where I have enjoyed the language so much. You ride it in this one. It is a unique sound.
The difficulty of men and women getting along? Yes, a DNA problem. But also, facing off on differences of world view, ambition and bravery between any two people is always a cause for conflict and drama. Growing up. Paying attention.
See it.
He and Solondz, they were the men for me.
He kept on. I’ve seen much. By the time he got to FAT PIG, I thought, “Fat pig? Really?”
Felt like a whole lot of shark jumping to me.
Then, yesterday, we saw reasons to be pretty. I am many degrees wrong.
reasons to be pretty is very smart, fantastic to listen to, straight out and flat to watch, sad and honest.
I hope it does very well.
Acting is pitched right. Deep enough. But also, the language is handled musically and pedestrian at the same time. Actors (and I saw one understudy) were: Thomas Sadoski, Anne Bowles, Steven Pasquale and Piper Perabo.
Direction is muscular and smooth. Economized and adult. By Terry Kinney. No slouch.
Set design is sad—palettes of big box store items framing the stage. Much of the play takes place in the break room. Pathetic, slave location. Needing to break out. David Gallo here.
I think the title is misleading. Perhaps this is purposeful. This play is really about a weak guy learning how to grow up, to be brave, to tell the truth. Even with the chosen lower casing of the title...
But then what would you call it? “The Break Room?”
I don’t know.
Rarely have I been to a play where I have enjoyed the language so much. You ride it in this one. It is a unique sound.
The difficulty of men and women getting along? Yes, a DNA problem. But also, facing off on differences of world view, ambition and bravery between any two people is always a cause for conflict and drama. Growing up. Paying attention.
See it.
Thursday, April 09, 2009
Good Friday
I have this weird thing about Jesus. I would like to say that I am ambivalent, but I’m not. I mostly feel that Jesus was a mad man, like so many other mad men who thought they were the son of God. Asylums are full of them. Jesus’ great trick was that he was also highly functional, a carpenter and must have also been a brilliant narcissist, hiding it well.
Now this might sound a little hostile. However, I do not believe that a case of mild, strongly regulated schizophrenia mixed with high grade narcissism is necessarily a bad thing.
I could be wrong. Maybe he really was the son of some god. Okay. Sure. Have a nice day.
But this is the thing. Christianity codified a lot of human behavior. Right and wrong. And the system was a little simpler than the former codified systems…even the Jews’ monotheistic system was more complicated what with all the arguing over interpretation. I think I still hear them arguing.
A bunch of mortals needed rallying. They got it. They chose this guy to be the symbol of it. It was an evolution of culture. It keeps going.
Maybe the unifying goat God will bring things together—and we’ll go back to worshipping nature, but simply. That would be the next evolution. We are of it. We are it. No need to dissociate and then project.
Enjoy your peeps, ham and eggs. Those are eternal.
Now this might sound a little hostile. However, I do not believe that a case of mild, strongly regulated schizophrenia mixed with high grade narcissism is necessarily a bad thing.
I could be wrong. Maybe he really was the son of some god. Okay. Sure. Have a nice day.
But this is the thing. Christianity codified a lot of human behavior. Right and wrong. And the system was a little simpler than the former codified systems…even the Jews’ monotheistic system was more complicated what with all the arguing over interpretation. I think I still hear them arguing.
A bunch of mortals needed rallying. They got it. They chose this guy to be the symbol of it. It was an evolution of culture. It keeps going.
Maybe the unifying goat God will bring things together—and we’ll go back to worshipping nature, but simply. That would be the next evolution. We are of it. We are it. No need to dissociate and then project.
Enjoy your peeps, ham and eggs. Those are eternal.
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
And I am Afraid
You watch this video—and you just have to laugh. Or think about it.
The third person, the young black woman in glasses, “And I am afraid.”
Come on! They couldn’t even get good actors!
You know, this little vidiot has the tone and feel of a Scientology promotion. I once went to the Scientology Center to do some research and they showed me a kind of orientation thing that was so silly and had that same feeling of “big earth doom” going on.
It makes you want to say that all conservatives and religious people have bad taste and are stupid.
But you don’t say that, because you want to be decent.
But it is hard to be decent when confronted with such hatred.
But then, you realize the hatred is not really hatred, it’s just fear.
And then you note, simply, that natural selection chooses against fearful primates.
So, these people who produced this vidiot and the actors who actually performed in it…I wish them well. They should not suffer. But they must also understand that a shrinking, fearful soul is a shrinking, fearful organism. In retreat. Bye bye.
The third person, the young black woman in glasses, “And I am afraid.”
Come on! They couldn’t even get good actors!
You know, this little vidiot has the tone and feel of a Scientology promotion. I once went to the Scientology Center to do some research and they showed me a kind of orientation thing that was so silly and had that same feeling of “big earth doom” going on.
It makes you want to say that all conservatives and religious people have bad taste and are stupid.
But you don’t say that, because you want to be decent.
But it is hard to be decent when confronted with such hatred.
But then, you realize the hatred is not really hatred, it’s just fear.
And then you note, simply, that natural selection chooses against fearful primates.
So, these people who produced this vidiot and the actors who actually performed in it…I wish them well. They should not suffer. But they must also understand that a shrinking, fearful soul is a shrinking, fearful organism. In retreat. Bye bye.
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
Moonlight in Vermont
Friends, there is no stopping it. Homos and Lezzies are running around like freaks---getting married, raising children, getting divorced, changing careers, grocery shopping, moving into houses, driving, eating peanut butter, taking walks, having sex, drinking wine, returning things to the store, buying books, walking dogs, taking Paxil, singing in the shower, flossing, calling their mothers, vacuuming, getting on Facebook, you name it!
They’re doing it. It’s wild.
Let’s hear it for Vermont.
Come on California, you’re next. You can do it. We know you can. Massachusetts, Connecticut, Iowa and Vermont are lisping, “JOIN US!”
They’re doing it. It’s wild.
Let’s hear it for Vermont.
Come on California, you’re next. You can do it. We know you can. Massachusetts, Connecticut, Iowa and Vermont are lisping, “JOIN US!”
Monday, April 06, 2009
The Inlaws
Someday, soon, I will have honest inlaws---as in, "Getting married will make an honest man out of me."
Now, usually, you want to be careful posting pictures of friends and family. I tend to post funny pictures from the past or decent pictures from the present.
I would say this is a beautiful picture from the present. These blondy WASP ladies are my family. Bottom left is Mother Judith, then, we go clockwise to the sisters. Ann, Sarah and Rebecca. Yes, Biblical names, Old Testament, all.
Maybe a trip to Iowa is the way to make it honest. I don't know.
Until then, I will continue to think of these people as my family-by-marriage, even though right now they are only my family-by-Domestic-Partnership.
Oh, people.
Now, usually, you want to be careful posting pictures of friends and family. I tend to post funny pictures from the past or decent pictures from the present.
I would say this is a beautiful picture from the present. These blondy WASP ladies are my family. Bottom left is Mother Judith, then, we go clockwise to the sisters. Ann, Sarah and Rebecca. Yes, Biblical names, Old Testament, all.
Maybe a trip to Iowa is the way to make it honest. I don't know.
Until then, I will continue to think of these people as my family-by-marriage, even though right now they are only my family-by-Domestic-Partnership.
Oh, people.
You Ought to Give Iowa a Try
Thank you Iowa.
As a kid, I knew you as "Iowa Test" Seemed like a smart place.
Though I really don't know you, Iowa, I am proud of you and you made me a cry a little.
Had to go You Tube Dipping. Found this. If You've ever been in Music Man...
As a kid, I knew you as "Iowa Test" Seemed like a smart place.
Though I really don't know you, Iowa, I am proud of you and you made me a cry a little.
Had to go You Tube Dipping. Found this. If You've ever been in Music Man...
Friday, April 03, 2009
So We Keep Printing Money
How wild. We just keep printing it and Obama keeps handing it out.
What on earth is happening here?
I have never lived through anything like this. I have recall about things I’ve read. The Weimar, mostly. People pushing wheelbarrows of cash to buy a loaf of bread.
I don’t mind if the dollar collapses along with all the other currencies. But then you have to ask, “What IS the modern currency?”
Or, “What WILL BE the currency of next year?’
I just do not know. Maybe the currency will be experience. Or openness. Or pebbles. Or corn?
Loose, meaningless dollars out there.
Perhaps what will need to happen is a huge sigh of debt erasure. Like the day the earth stood still. We all just agree: DO OVER!
And all debt is forgiven.
Then fashion a One World currency. Come up with a new name and a new symbol. The I. As in Roman Numeral 1… Could be a good unit. Just call them ONES. Every language has a word for one. Use I and call it One. Maybe we’ll feel like one big part of it, together.
Start over.
Obama and friends…you’re freaking me out. And I’m a Democrat. Big one.
What on earth is happening here?
I have never lived through anything like this. I have recall about things I’ve read. The Weimar, mostly. People pushing wheelbarrows of cash to buy a loaf of bread.
I don’t mind if the dollar collapses along with all the other currencies. But then you have to ask, “What IS the modern currency?”
Or, “What WILL BE the currency of next year?’
I just do not know. Maybe the currency will be experience. Or openness. Or pebbles. Or corn?
Loose, meaningless dollars out there.
Perhaps what will need to happen is a huge sigh of debt erasure. Like the day the earth stood still. We all just agree: DO OVER!
And all debt is forgiven.
Then fashion a One World currency. Come up with a new name and a new symbol. The I. As in Roman Numeral 1… Could be a good unit. Just call them ONES. Every language has a word for one. Use I and call it One. Maybe we’ll feel like one big part of it, together.
Start over.
Obama and friends…you’re freaking me out. And I’m a Democrat. Big one.
Thursday, April 02, 2009
The Devil's Staircase
As China rolls the electric cars off the assembly line while Americans sit around still wondering, “When do I get to be rich like they said?”—
I think of the Autistic children. So many now.
The rate of occurrence of Autism has not changed, as many have proffered, it is only that we are better able to count them.
Perhaps, true. But even if there has always been this density of Autistic beings, (1 in 150 eight year olds, to 1 in 5,000 eight year olds, depending on the study), you have to wonder, why so many Autistic kids? Are they speciating?
Or are these kids, simply, the future of all mankind? A twisting inward of a species living in its own filth?
Where are we going?
I think of the Autistic children. So many now.
The rate of occurrence of Autism has not changed, as many have proffered, it is only that we are better able to count them.
Perhaps, true. But even if there has always been this density of Autistic beings, (1 in 150 eight year olds, to 1 in 5,000 eight year olds, depending on the study), you have to wonder, why so many Autistic kids? Are they speciating?
Or are these kids, simply, the future of all mankind? A twisting inward of a species living in its own filth?
Where are we going?
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
My Decreasing Readership
I receive the report each week about my blog readership. It’s tanking downward.
When did I lose my appeal?
Was it all that garlic I ate at the Indian place?
Or maybe I haven’t been digging deep enough…not enough truth coming out.
I know what it is. It’s the recession. People don’t have the time to read my blog---too many pencils and apples to sell.
No more frivolity. Not me. I’m only going to write about the important stuff.
Like:
When my mother-in-law sent that bottle of pine tar (for itching) did she not realize that her son would put it on his spider bites and then smell like a janitor’s closet?
When will I ever settle down and get a new dog?
The nature of butter on the thighs.
Gas made from grass.
Princes of Lichtenstein and their boring afternoons.
Stickley.
The loss of innocence, the rise of Socialism.
The best place for a teeth cleaning.
Race politics? What are they? Really—
Is England a country or a county?
Where were you when Karl Rove was put in jail?
Why hospice when you have an oven?
Fear and Stupidity: A truthful reflection of the self.
Sex after forty and before fifty.
Little killings and deaths.
Do people really mean it?
How you were once young and beautiful and now you are old and ugly?
The Rapture as a pop element.
Scoring at bowling could be what you are best equipped to handle?
If green is really the color, then why so much complaining?
Goat capture.
The things you hated that you still hate that never go away.
Toilet maintenance.
If you could, would you ever date a child?
The littlest reasons to love your past.
How is it that you never made a good stack of pancakes?
Will all the people who have ever bought a field book of amphibians ever get together?
Where does your sense of taste land after a lot of salt?
Goldfish
Similar ideas across long periods of time.
When did I lose my appeal?
Was it all that garlic I ate at the Indian place?
Or maybe I haven’t been digging deep enough…not enough truth coming out.
I know what it is. It’s the recession. People don’t have the time to read my blog---too many pencils and apples to sell.
No more frivolity. Not me. I’m only going to write about the important stuff.
Like:
When my mother-in-law sent that bottle of pine tar (for itching) did she not realize that her son would put it on his spider bites and then smell like a janitor’s closet?
When will I ever settle down and get a new dog?
The nature of butter on the thighs.
Gas made from grass.
Princes of Lichtenstein and their boring afternoons.
Stickley.
The loss of innocence, the rise of Socialism.
The best place for a teeth cleaning.
Race politics? What are they? Really—
Is England a country or a county?
Where were you when Karl Rove was put in jail?
Why hospice when you have an oven?
Fear and Stupidity: A truthful reflection of the self.
Sex after forty and before fifty.
Little killings and deaths.
Do people really mean it?
How you were once young and beautiful and now you are old and ugly?
The Rapture as a pop element.
Scoring at bowling could be what you are best equipped to handle?
If green is really the color, then why so much complaining?
Goat capture.
The things you hated that you still hate that never go away.
Toilet maintenance.
If you could, would you ever date a child?
The littlest reasons to love your past.
How is it that you never made a good stack of pancakes?
Will all the people who have ever bought a field book of amphibians ever get together?
Where does your sense of taste land after a lot of salt?
Goldfish
Similar ideas across long periods of time.
Monday, March 30, 2009
The Coasts
Sometimes, when I am in New York, I do crave California…and mostly, (in addition to my friends---Hi everyone), it is because of the climate. I tell people this in New York, “I really like the weather,” and I hear retorts, “You can’t live somewhere just because of the weather.”
Sure, you can’t. But it’s not just the weather. It’s the plants. The air. The way it all makes you feel. Look at this hill behind Mary’s backyard.
Now, get off the subway at 75th and Roosevelt Avenue in Queens and walk by this building every day. The only thing that recommends it, at all, is that it is the ugliest building in The United States of America.
There is a difference. Face it, California (though so marred) has far more natural beauty simply because of its climate.
There is no lack of hideous architecture in California, either. We all know this. But when you can’t take the hideousness another minute, you can find a hillside covered in wild mustard.
Of course, I probably need to get out of Queens…away from tower-o-satellite-dishes, and I will have a change of heart.
Sure, you can’t. But it’s not just the weather. It’s the plants. The air. The way it all makes you feel. Look at this hill behind Mary’s backyard.
Now, get off the subway at 75th and Roosevelt Avenue in Queens and walk by this building every day. The only thing that recommends it, at all, is that it is the ugliest building in The United States of America.
There is a difference. Face it, California (though so marred) has far more natural beauty simply because of its climate.
There is no lack of hideous architecture in California, either. We all know this. But when you can’t take the hideousness another minute, you can find a hillside covered in wild mustard.
Of course, I probably need to get out of Queens…away from tower-o-satellite-dishes, and I will have a change of heart.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
The Debt
While spending time with some Republican relatives yesterday (and we all have some), the subject turned to the BAILOUT! Eeek!
Look, I am a moderate Democrat. And basically, I want health care…universal for all. Everything else---open to discussion.
So, when my relatives were going off on all this government spending, I did see their point. I didn’t agree with the finer points of their indignation: Debt for the grandkids! (Didn’t Bush do that, too?), I don’t want to help people who can’t help themselves! (Not even the autistic?), Government is too big! (Is it?), etc. But, I do have a foreboding feeling about this bailout, too. I feel like Obama and friends will be happy to hand out money until the cows come home, or, until the cows don’t have any home to come home to if absolutely everything collapses under this Weimar-esque money printing scenario.
But then, the closest Republican relative of all said, “Well, if you take a trillion bucks and divide by 300, 000, 000 people,” (I calculated it), “Then if everyone just pays $3,333.00 we can pay it off. It doesn’t seem that hard to pay that off.”
So, even the Republicans had different points of view about all this.
Of course, not everyone can afford to pay off $3,333.00 so it won’t happen that way…but rich people and businesses could pull a bigger load of it. And it could be done. (Obama’s plan, basically.)
Money.
Handing out cash like candy freaks me out. It makes me want to pull in the reigns.
But it is hard to understand the Republican cry against big government and huge spending when that is exactly what George Bush was up to. Why when our man does the same thing is it suddenly criminal?
It seems to me that Republicans are cool with enormous amounts of money spent on war but not on anything else.
Or something.
Or Democrats simply make them nauseous.
But I have to agree with their fear about this spending a little bit. It seems wildly monstrous.
I am a math man. Just show me the math---get on television, and show me the math of all this. I’ll even swallow projections. And then, we’ll just do it.
Look, I am a moderate Democrat. And basically, I want health care…universal for all. Everything else---open to discussion.
So, when my relatives were going off on all this government spending, I did see their point. I didn’t agree with the finer points of their indignation: Debt for the grandkids! (Didn’t Bush do that, too?), I don’t want to help people who can’t help themselves! (Not even the autistic?), Government is too big! (Is it?), etc. But, I do have a foreboding feeling about this bailout, too. I feel like Obama and friends will be happy to hand out money until the cows come home, or, until the cows don’t have any home to come home to if absolutely everything collapses under this Weimar-esque money printing scenario.
But then, the closest Republican relative of all said, “Well, if you take a trillion bucks and divide by 300, 000, 000 people,” (I calculated it), “Then if everyone just pays $3,333.00 we can pay it off. It doesn’t seem that hard to pay that off.”
So, even the Republicans had different points of view about all this.
Of course, not everyone can afford to pay off $3,333.00 so it won’t happen that way…but rich people and businesses could pull a bigger load of it. And it could be done. (Obama’s plan, basically.)
Money.
Handing out cash like candy freaks me out. It makes me want to pull in the reigns.
But it is hard to understand the Republican cry against big government and huge spending when that is exactly what George Bush was up to. Why when our man does the same thing is it suddenly criminal?
It seems to me that Republicans are cool with enormous amounts of money spent on war but not on anything else.
Or something.
Or Democrats simply make them nauseous.
But I have to agree with their fear about this spending a little bit. It seems wildly monstrous.
I am a math man. Just show me the math---get on television, and show me the math of all this. I’ll even swallow projections. And then, we’ll just do it.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Jersey
It's mythical. It's filthy. It's beautiful. It's Jersey.
I grew up in New York State just a few feet from the New Jersey border. Though we were officially New Yorkers, we did most everything (okay, retail) in New Jersey.
I am here now, visiting my brother who hopped seven blocks--from the New York end of the neighborhood into the New Jersey end. I have to say, the New Jersey end is nicer. More upscale for sure. And certainly loaded with trees and birds.
There is a thrill about taking a train out of Manhattan. You know, everyone loves New York...but secretly, what everyone REALLY loves about New York is how easy it is to GET THE FUCK OUT when you need to and to GET THE FUCK IN when you've had enough of suburbia.
It's a thrill...New Jersey. There are real people here who plant trees for a living. I drank a whole bottle of home made wine. Sure, the grapes come from California...but these Jersey freaks make wine every year in their garage...I am all for it.
Look, we all know New Jersey has its own sense of cool. It's a grounded place. It's industrial as hell. There are some pretty fabulous suburbs. And the people are ready to rumble.
But really, what it's all about...it's about these trains.
I grew up in New York State just a few feet from the New Jersey border. Though we were officially New Yorkers, we did most everything (okay, retail) in New Jersey.
I am here now, visiting my brother who hopped seven blocks--from the New York end of the neighborhood into the New Jersey end. I have to say, the New Jersey end is nicer. More upscale for sure. And certainly loaded with trees and birds.
There is a thrill about taking a train out of Manhattan. You know, everyone loves New York...but secretly, what everyone REALLY loves about New York is how easy it is to GET THE FUCK OUT when you need to and to GET THE FUCK IN when you've had enough of suburbia.
It's a thrill...New Jersey. There are real people here who plant trees for a living. I drank a whole bottle of home made wine. Sure, the grapes come from California...but these Jersey freaks make wine every year in their garage...I am all for it.
Look, we all know New Jersey has its own sense of cool. It's a grounded place. It's industrial as hell. There are some pretty fabulous suburbs. And the people are ready to rumble.
But really, what it's all about...it's about these trains.
It Gets So Late
Something about being in New York but still sort of living in California that makes a man unclear about his time zone.
I don’t mind so much. I’ve always been a night person. Actually, in New York, I am even more nighty because it gets real quiet and that’s how I like it.
Funny, I am so sound sensitive and it has little to do with my ears. It’s the larger problem of taking in energy. Whatever is happening outside of me, I simply take it in and it resonates in me. I guess this is my “artistic sensitivity.” But one would like a little more control over when that kind of thing comes in.
I actually don’t want to shut off this inflow. And I don’t want to control it. But it gets to be a bit much at times. So the best I can do is to limit the volume coming at me. Staying up late helps.
And if you don’t drink, you can get a lot done.
I am back at my book. (Thanks Noel and Moose Purse).
So much traveling around, lately. It feels great to sit and focus. To construct and edit.
Time expands. Experience is full and very internal and grounding.
Things become clear.
I don’t mind so much. I’ve always been a night person. Actually, in New York, I am even more nighty because it gets real quiet and that’s how I like it.
Funny, I am so sound sensitive and it has little to do with my ears. It’s the larger problem of taking in energy. Whatever is happening outside of me, I simply take it in and it resonates in me. I guess this is my “artistic sensitivity.” But one would like a little more control over when that kind of thing comes in.
I actually don’t want to shut off this inflow. And I don’t want to control it. But it gets to be a bit much at times. So the best I can do is to limit the volume coming at me. Staying up late helps.
And if you don’t drink, you can get a lot done.
I am back at my book. (Thanks Noel and Moose Purse).
So much traveling around, lately. It feels great to sit and focus. To construct and edit.
Time expands. Experience is full and very internal and grounding.
Things become clear.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Crocuses
Don't be alarmed. It's just a church yard. Simple. It is Spring in New York. We just need the winter wind to go away.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Visiting Blogger: On British Pop, Daniel Kaufman
I was listening to some Lily Allen and I formulated a question that I sent to my good friend, Dan Kaufman, who used to live in Great Britain.
The question was this:
Why is Great Britain the only country in Europe that really understands pop (I refer mostly to music, but other forms of pop as examples are welcome)?
Discuss in terms of cultural history
Island geography
Imperialism, including its relation to the birth of The United States
Superior aesthetic compared with France, Germany, Italy and Spain
Paganism, local natural forces, resistance to the church
The class system
Etc.
And now, a few words from Daniel Kaufman:
Brit blacks.
The blacks who brought their music to the UK did it by way of Jamaica. Jamaican pop music was their version of what they heard from the American radio they were able to pick up on the island.
There was no interesting pop music in the UK until Jamaicans got there in the 50s. You need a folk culture that isn't constrained by the need to remain pure and black people to reinterpret it through their African lens.
In fact, American/English folk, like our language and culture, always sought to appropriate what is best about societies we encountered by whatever means.
I remember being at a festival in Strassburg listening to a brass band. They had the same instruments, or similar variations, of the ones played by Duke Ellington's group, but the music that came out was incredibly stale polka. It had no swing, no soul singing rhythm, no crotch grabbing beat. It probably sounded the same for the past 200 years.
The question was this:
Why is Great Britain the only country in Europe that really understands pop (I refer mostly to music, but other forms of pop as examples are welcome)?
Discuss in terms of cultural history
Island geography
Imperialism, including its relation to the birth of The United States
Superior aesthetic compared with France, Germany, Italy and Spain
Paganism, local natural forces, resistance to the church
The class system
Etc.
And now, a few words from Daniel Kaufman:
Brit blacks.
The blacks who brought their music to the UK did it by way of Jamaica. Jamaican pop music was their version of what they heard from the American radio they were able to pick up on the island.
There was no interesting pop music in the UK until Jamaicans got there in the 50s. You need a folk culture that isn't constrained by the need to remain pure and black people to reinterpret it through their African lens.
In fact, American/English folk, like our language and culture, always sought to appropriate what is best about societies we encountered by whatever means.
I remember being at a festival in Strassburg listening to a brass band. They had the same instruments, or similar variations, of the ones played by Duke Ellington's group, but the music that came out was incredibly stale polka. It had no swing, no soul singing rhythm, no crotch grabbing beat. It probably sounded the same for the past 200 years.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
The Cool Woods
I have never seen an episode of Jay Leno before tonight. There, I admit it.
I’ve walked by and the television was on and he would be talking and I didn’t care too much.
But I wanted to see my furor.
So I hauled out the little television here in Queens and set it up on the little table and I propped the rabbit ears on the sill and I sat there and watched.
Jay Leno was funny, sometimes. Which was pleasing. A 99 cent store roast, parading out silly products, tickled some.
And then out came our literate guy, the man with the answers, the Health Care/Energy/Education president. A very cool customer.
A smart guy. Right?
I thought, “Oh yeah, he’s like all of our friends except if he was in our group, he’d be the smartest one.”
I am so glad he’s the smartest one.
He stays on point. But his smile, his talking about the silliness of his motorcade, his daughter’s love of candy on the plane, the future dog, all of it, was pretty much perfect smooth television. No wonder this guy won. He’s our Havel. He’s actually creative.
And Jay Leno, a righty, was completely gracious and only cut Obama off (not allowing positive applause to last too long) when a conversational topic had a whiff of government spending about it. ---One wonders why Jay Leno cares---Hard wired?
Obama is a great big story teller and perfect little story teller. He is forest and trees. Fresh.
I’ve walked by and the television was on and he would be talking and I didn’t care too much.
But I wanted to see my furor.
So I hauled out the little television here in Queens and set it up on the little table and I propped the rabbit ears on the sill and I sat there and watched.
Jay Leno was funny, sometimes. Which was pleasing. A 99 cent store roast, parading out silly products, tickled some.
And then out came our literate guy, the man with the answers, the Health Care/Energy/Education president. A very cool customer.
A smart guy. Right?
I thought, “Oh yeah, he’s like all of our friends except if he was in our group, he’d be the smartest one.”
I am so glad he’s the smartest one.
He stays on point. But his smile, his talking about the silliness of his motorcade, his daughter’s love of candy on the plane, the future dog, all of it, was pretty much perfect smooth television. No wonder this guy won. He’s our Havel. He’s actually creative.
And Jay Leno, a righty, was completely gracious and only cut Obama off (not allowing positive applause to last too long) when a conversational topic had a whiff of government spending about it. ---One wonders why Jay Leno cares---Hard wired?
Obama is a great big story teller and perfect little story teller. He is forest and trees. Fresh.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
My Question to any Republicans about Obama
How can you remain so unexcited about someone with such a huge stimulus package?
We’ll be here all week…
We’ll be here all week…
The Class
The French movie, The Class, if you can find it playing, go see it.
All the best intentions cannot move the immovable.
Some can change.
Some cannot.
Is change possible or is it even right to try to help someone change?
Who is stupid, but not really?
All the best intentions cannot move the immovable.
Some can change.
Some cannot.
Is change possible or is it even right to try to help someone change?
Who is stupid, but not really?
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Bromance
It’s homosexuality? Let’s face it. This Bromance is.
Even I, a card carrying gay guy, would never sidle up to some guy who is not my boyfriend.
I mean, I have very strong friendships with straight guys. And we even hug hello. It’s lovely. It’s no different than saying hello to a female friend and giving her a peck on the cheek.
But this whole bonding and deep loving thing between two grown men? If it isn’t twisted homosexuality, then I don’t know what it is.
Except for this:
Years ago, when I was the tin man in the Wizard of Oz in this children’s theatre truck show (Oh man), my roommate was the scarecrow. We were excellent friends. Every night in a Day’s Inn.
Then: The wrestling in our underwear began. Which usually ended with us sitting in the bed together, holding hands, watching T.V. I imagined one simple thing: Gay gay this is gay, gay. Take off those drawers.
But it wasn’t? The guy said he looked up to me. He thought I was cool. He said he wasn’t gay but if he was, it was me who he’d be gay for. He said his father was real old and he never got to really bond with him. Ultimately, he lacked male camaraderie, love, affection and he was working that out, underwear wrestling, in a Day’s Inn. And he swore that’s all it was. People.
After a couple of weeks of this carrying on, he had a full blown relationship with the freaky woman who was in love with me who I was in no position to be in love with and told her so.
So perhaps, perhaps, my wrestler really was just a guy looking for a Bromance. It could be true. We were in our twenties and it all felt a little bit like we were twelve and he was working something out. It was sweet and I guess harmless.
So maybe men, all men, need man love. I don’t know. It’s so confusing.
You go to a gay bar in West Hollywood, you used to get a hunky gay guy who waited on you. Now, it’s a sweet Guatemalan woman named Cleritze. There’s no order any longer.
It’s all turned on its ear.
So let whoever wants to have their Bromance. I just find it all a little confusing. I don’t understand what it’s about.
Even I, a card carrying gay guy, would never sidle up to some guy who is not my boyfriend.
I mean, I have very strong friendships with straight guys. And we even hug hello. It’s lovely. It’s no different than saying hello to a female friend and giving her a peck on the cheek.
But this whole bonding and deep loving thing between two grown men? If it isn’t twisted homosexuality, then I don’t know what it is.
Except for this:
Years ago, when I was the tin man in the Wizard of Oz in this children’s theatre truck show (Oh man), my roommate was the scarecrow. We were excellent friends. Every night in a Day’s Inn.
Then: The wrestling in our underwear began. Which usually ended with us sitting in the bed together, holding hands, watching T.V. I imagined one simple thing: Gay gay this is gay, gay. Take off those drawers.
But it wasn’t? The guy said he looked up to me. He thought I was cool. He said he wasn’t gay but if he was, it was me who he’d be gay for. He said his father was real old and he never got to really bond with him. Ultimately, he lacked male camaraderie, love, affection and he was working that out, underwear wrestling, in a Day’s Inn. And he swore that’s all it was. People.
After a couple of weeks of this carrying on, he had a full blown relationship with the freaky woman who was in love with me who I was in no position to be in love with and told her so.
So perhaps, perhaps, my wrestler really was just a guy looking for a Bromance. It could be true. We were in our twenties and it all felt a little bit like we were twelve and he was working something out. It was sweet and I guess harmless.
So maybe men, all men, need man love. I don’t know. It’s so confusing.
You go to a gay bar in West Hollywood, you used to get a hunky gay guy who waited on you. Now, it’s a sweet Guatemalan woman named Cleritze. There’s no order any longer.
It’s all turned on its ear.
So let whoever wants to have their Bromance. I just find it all a little confusing. I don’t understand what it’s about.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Obama is Up to Something
I believe the president is warning against optimism for a quick recovery for the economy because he knows it will take a few years to switch to our green economy with greater affordable health care.
Sure, we could have another bubble, I guess, in something…and pretend the economy/culture is thriving, but bubbles run out. And when they do, that just means we’ve exhausted the bubble possibilities. Time to change things.
When the economy starts taking off in three years, just in time for the next election, President Obama will be well situated for reelection.
He is up to something.
Sure, we could have another bubble, I guess, in something…and pretend the economy/culture is thriving, but bubbles run out. And when they do, that just means we’ve exhausted the bubble possibilities. Time to change things.
When the economy starts taking off in three years, just in time for the next election, President Obama will be well situated for reelection.
He is up to something.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Queens is the Future
From the window of my apartment in New York you can see the sign, "Queens is the Future."
Adam, my Recognized-by-the-state-of-California-Domestic-Partner, made a tuber about it.
Adam, my Recognized-by-the-state-of-California-Domestic-Partner, made a tuber about it.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Separate but What?
I think of Ann Coulter, Rush, the others…and I say, sure, the gimmick used to work…
The problem with the howlings of the right is the judgmental brimstone.
They don’t see it as fervor, but that’s all it is. An addiction to adrenalin.
A very large fear danced very large.
People, especially black and white thinking people, want to feel separate and better. I understand it. I want to feel separate and better, too. But I fight it. Strive all, sure. But why not give other people health care, too, while you go after your mania? Or understand people who are not as strong or as smart as you are? Or as thin or as energetic or as assertive. Or as greedy.
You are not better. Get off the fear wagon and join us. We’ll have you. Jump in. Use your intelligence to solve problems. Do not to run away from challenges with your smiling chime, “The free market will take care of it.”
You’re smart people. Help out. Join us. Make it all work better. Get in there and figure out some efficient ways to do things. And we’ll grow on that.
The problem with the howlings of the right is the judgmental brimstone.
They don’t see it as fervor, but that’s all it is. An addiction to adrenalin.
A very large fear danced very large.
People, especially black and white thinking people, want to feel separate and better. I understand it. I want to feel separate and better, too. But I fight it. Strive all, sure. But why not give other people health care, too, while you go after your mania? Or understand people who are not as strong or as smart as you are? Or as thin or as energetic or as assertive. Or as greedy.
You are not better. Get off the fear wagon and join us. We’ll have you. Jump in. Use your intelligence to solve problems. Do not to run away from challenges with your smiling chime, “The free market will take care of it.”
You’re smart people. Help out. Join us. Make it all work better. Get in there and figure out some efficient ways to do things. And we’ll grow on that.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Central European Ball Cutters
I was reading in the newspaper tonight about legal castration in The Czech Republic for sex offenders.
Sure, why not?
A couple of years ago, traveling around Germany, we went to a medieval punishment museum. I thought the punishments were equal to the crimes. Big masks with waggy tongues for those who talk too much, stockades for thieves, a cage here and there for the morally repugnant…
Is corporal punishment crueler than living in a cell? I don’t think so.
If I had to choose between thirty days in a cage in the town square having people throw garbage at me or three years in a dark cell, I’d take the cage and the garbage.
Now, if I was a sex offender (and I am so grateful that I don’t find anyone under twenty-five years old attractive), but if I was a sex offender…and I just could not control myself, I guess I would just ask to fix it. Just do it. Fast. Cut them. Dice them. Call it a day.
Sure, why not?
A couple of years ago, traveling around Germany, we went to a medieval punishment museum. I thought the punishments were equal to the crimes. Big masks with waggy tongues for those who talk too much, stockades for thieves, a cage here and there for the morally repugnant…
Is corporal punishment crueler than living in a cell? I don’t think so.
If I had to choose between thirty days in a cage in the town square having people throw garbage at me or three years in a dark cell, I’d take the cage and the garbage.
Now, if I was a sex offender (and I am so grateful that I don’t find anyone under twenty-five years old attractive), but if I was a sex offender…and I just could not control myself, I guess I would just ask to fix it. Just do it. Fast. Cut them. Dice them. Call it a day.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
The Cabin Life
Strangely, living in New York City in a studio apartment, is like a trek back in time. No dishwasher. Laundry in the basement. Not so much space. You know, the rough life.
I wonder why we shy away from small labors. They make you feel very in control of your life.
Though I am completely more comfortable with house living, this small apartment living is worth mentioning. It forces you to be very introspective. Spare. Almost Japanese. I feel less crass, yet oddly downscale, too.
But purer. Closer to the bone.
Am I shallow to respond so much to my surroundings?
Or young.
I wonder why we shy away from small labors. They make you feel very in control of your life.
Though I am completely more comfortable with house living, this small apartment living is worth mentioning. It forces you to be very introspective. Spare. Almost Japanese. I feel less crass, yet oddly downscale, too.
But purer. Closer to the bone.
Am I shallow to respond so much to my surroundings?
Or young.
Sunday, March 08, 2009
Bring on the Socialism
What’s all this talk about Obama being a Socialist? I wish it were true!
I think Obama wants to be liked by everyone, so I imagine a very moderate guy, making some smart moves, getting some things in place to regulate this and that, getting more uninsured people insured…hardly Socialist. I see an incremental leader making up for many of the increments that were not touched over the past eight years. But a revolutionary? Hardly.
Please, health care. Get to it.
I think Obama wants to be liked by everyone, so I imagine a very moderate guy, making some smart moves, getting some things in place to regulate this and that, getting more uninsured people insured…hardly Socialist. I see an incremental leader making up for many of the increments that were not touched over the past eight years. But a revolutionary? Hardly.
Please, health care. Get to it.
Thursday, March 05, 2009
This is my Greenpoint
You can walk from our apartment in Queens to Brooklyn. Sure, it's a long walk, through Jackson Heights, Woodside, Sunnyside, Hunter's Point, over the Pulaski Bridge into Greenpoint...but you can do it. And we did. Our reward? A large Polish meal at Christina's. Great Polish food at 1981 prices. The Warka beer went with it correctly. I doubled up on the pierogies. Greenpoint. Yes.
God of Carnage
God of Carnage, by Yasmina Reza, is one of those plays where you know something awful is going to go down and you just can’t wait for it to blow up.
The cast, get ready: Jeff Daniels, Hope Davis, James Gandolfini and Marcia Gay Harden (as the Beaver).
You guys—if you are in New York, zip right down to see it (Jacobs Theatre, West 45th Street). It you are not in New York, by all means, jump on a plane (big sales right now) and see it.
Look, Yasmina Reza is really smart and really funny. She understands the worst nature of human beings. However, she treats it lightly. She is indicting and forgiving at once, something I aspire to be.
The play is simple: One kid breaks two teeth of another kid in a playground. We never meet the kids. We just watch the two sets of parents talk about it. Jeff Daniels is a nasty lawyer, completely honest about his me-first lifestyle. Hope Davis plays his wife. She attempts to smoothe things over. And is a bit of a puker.
Marcia Gay Harden, the conscience in heels, devolves incredibly beautifully as the mother of the child victim who lost his teeth. James Gandolfini, her long suffering and depressed hardware wholesaler, is wise beyond his station.
All four of the actors are outrageously spot on.
The direction, by Matthew Warchus, is as smooth and deep as Y. Reza’s writing. The set design, grotesquely overstated and understated at once, that is to say, a minimalist apartment-loft in Cobble Hill, Brooklyn expanded to a grotesque size, sets you into rage and quease.
The play is a bit like Albee’s The Goat or Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? But who cares! What play isn’t?
The translation from the French by Christopher Hampton is another stroke of brilliance. He replaces all precious-parent Parisian references with precious-parent Brooklyn references, so much so, that one understands my friend Megan’s lament about the place, “The borough that is dead to me.”
Look, once in a while a great play comes along (Let’s remember, she also wrote Art), and when that happens, and you want to be thrilled, you should just do it. Jump over.
The cast, get ready: Jeff Daniels, Hope Davis, James Gandolfini and Marcia Gay Harden (as the Beaver).
You guys—if you are in New York, zip right down to see it (Jacobs Theatre, West 45th Street). It you are not in New York, by all means, jump on a plane (big sales right now) and see it.
Look, Yasmina Reza is really smart and really funny. She understands the worst nature of human beings. However, she treats it lightly. She is indicting and forgiving at once, something I aspire to be.
The play is simple: One kid breaks two teeth of another kid in a playground. We never meet the kids. We just watch the two sets of parents talk about it. Jeff Daniels is a nasty lawyer, completely honest about his me-first lifestyle. Hope Davis plays his wife. She attempts to smoothe things over. And is a bit of a puker.
Marcia Gay Harden, the conscience in heels, devolves incredibly beautifully as the mother of the child victim who lost his teeth. James Gandolfini, her long suffering and depressed hardware wholesaler, is wise beyond his station.
All four of the actors are outrageously spot on.
The direction, by Matthew Warchus, is as smooth and deep as Y. Reza’s writing. The set design, grotesquely overstated and understated at once, that is to say, a minimalist apartment-loft in Cobble Hill, Brooklyn expanded to a grotesque size, sets you into rage and quease.
The play is a bit like Albee’s The Goat or Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? But who cares! What play isn’t?
The translation from the French by Christopher Hampton is another stroke of brilliance. He replaces all precious-parent Parisian references with precious-parent Brooklyn references, so much so, that one understands my friend Megan’s lament about the place, “The borough that is dead to me.”
Look, once in a while a great play comes along (Let’s remember, she also wrote Art), and when that happens, and you want to be thrilled, you should just do it. Jump over.
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Don Has Facebook Ass
I finally did it. I made a folder and a rule in Outlook. So whenever the Facebook notifications come, they go into my Facebook folder, where they can sit.
I know, you say I can turn off notifications on Facebook and stop this madness…with no need to filter out those pesky messages into their own folder.
But it is good to read them as they come in willy nilly. Then, push them to the side for a while.
How long can a person sit at a computer and work?
To spend your life at a terminal? Really? Because you like sciatic pain?
Up and off, push back, go outside.
I know, you say I can turn off notifications on Facebook and stop this madness…with no need to filter out those pesky messages into their own folder.
But it is good to read them as they come in willy nilly. Then, push them to the side for a while.
How long can a person sit at a computer and work?
To spend your life at a terminal? Really? Because you like sciatic pain?
Up and off, push back, go outside.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
Sunday, March 01, 2009
The Fizzle of Adrenalin: A Depression
Talking fiscally with my agent, and steering him away from, “This is the toughest year…” toward something more optimistic like, “My play is so cheap to produce!” we stumbled upon something, or rather, my agent did and I noticed it.
He said, “No regulation is fun. It’s exciting. Capitalism is exciting. You feel like anything can happen. But it doesn’t work.”
Nice work.
Could it be that libertarians and conservatives and all sorts of Republican types are simply addicts who are addicted to the thrill of the hunt? After all, they do acquire much and then they want to acquire more, so it can’t really be the acquisition that is satisfying. It must be the hunt. And they don’t want us to muck with that. Why? Because it’s the only thing that might be keeping THEM from falling into a miserable depression.
Ever notice when you are in a manic state that what lurks beneath is a desperate despair you are trying to avoid?
Could a fiscal environment that lacks regulation be the propitious arena where depressed and hungry monkeys can assuage their dipping brain chemistry by rampant hunting? Thus, revving up their dopamine? And who knows what other neurotransmitters!?
It has been proven, or at least shown in a study, that liberals are a gloomy bunch. Liberals foresee problems before they happen, worry more in general, think more about others and do tend toward pessimism. Sure. I’ll buy that. So, a world that is more depressed might seem more normal to the liberal soul.
A world that is more depressed disgusts the conservative fighter. And I understand why. I prefer to be a prospector. Joyful. On the hunt. But too much of that and what do you get? This.
He said, “No regulation is fun. It’s exciting. Capitalism is exciting. You feel like anything can happen. But it doesn’t work.”
Nice work.
Could it be that libertarians and conservatives and all sorts of Republican types are simply addicts who are addicted to the thrill of the hunt? After all, they do acquire much and then they want to acquire more, so it can’t really be the acquisition that is satisfying. It must be the hunt. And they don’t want us to muck with that. Why? Because it’s the only thing that might be keeping THEM from falling into a miserable depression.
Ever notice when you are in a manic state that what lurks beneath is a desperate despair you are trying to avoid?
Could a fiscal environment that lacks regulation be the propitious arena where depressed and hungry monkeys can assuage their dipping brain chemistry by rampant hunting? Thus, revving up their dopamine? And who knows what other neurotransmitters!?
It has been proven, or at least shown in a study, that liberals are a gloomy bunch. Liberals foresee problems before they happen, worry more in general, think more about others and do tend toward pessimism. Sure. I’ll buy that. So, a world that is more depressed might seem more normal to the liberal soul.
A world that is more depressed disgusts the conservative fighter. And I understand why. I prefer to be a prospector. Joyful. On the hunt. But too much of that and what do you get? This.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
The Line
It's a great opportunity to practice love and acceptance: The line at Trader Joe's in Union Square.
The place is popular. As the scrum of New York digs in to buy their capers and creams, one is bumped and cajoled into possible irritation. But not me! I decided to stand there and say to myself, "All these people love Trader Joes as much as I do, so this is just a festival of love."
And so it was.
New York City is a great place to practice serenity. In fact, it's a better place than almost anywhere else because the challenge is right in front of you for the taking.
You know--I love New York. I wish I had a house here. So I could spread out my bags of nuts and boxes of tea.
The place is popular. As the scrum of New York digs in to buy their capers and creams, one is bumped and cajoled into possible irritation. But not me! I decided to stand there and say to myself, "All these people love Trader Joes as much as I do, so this is just a festival of love."
And so it was.
New York City is a great place to practice serenity. In fact, it's a better place than almost anywhere else because the challenge is right in front of you for the taking.
You know--I love New York. I wish I had a house here. So I could spread out my bags of nuts and boxes of tea.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Yard Birds
The birds have found our two day old feeder. Here they come.
It's also jasmine season in Los Angeles. You should consider a trip.
LA---sure, it has way too many cars. But if you hole up in a nice spot, you're in good shape.
It's also jasmine season in Los Angeles. You should consider a trip.
LA---sure, it has way too many cars. But if you hole up in a nice spot, you're in good shape.
L.D.F.
How comforting to have such an intelligent man as the President of the United States.
And: Energy, Health Care and Education? Certainly. Let’s do it. It is so clear.
While I was watching and listening to B. Obama’s speech, I felt exhilarated about our future and dismally resentful of the past eight years. However, I am working on being less judgmental and less stuck in the past these days. So I clicked into that, which pretty much relaxes me into a state of curious openness with a lack of resistance to absurdity followed by a self protective wave of comforting Dadaism.
So when the camera came in close on our fine senator from California, I could only say,
“Look, it’s Lobster Diane Feinstein.”
Until the improvement, and afterward, you will find me open, curious and ready to turn anyone into a dish of stewed shellfish.
And: Energy, Health Care and Education? Certainly. Let’s do it. It is so clear.
While I was watching and listening to B. Obama’s speech, I felt exhilarated about our future and dismally resentful of the past eight years. However, I am working on being less judgmental and less stuck in the past these days. So I clicked into that, which pretty much relaxes me into a state of curious openness with a lack of resistance to absurdity followed by a self protective wave of comforting Dadaism.
So when the camera came in close on our fine senator from California, I could only say,
“Look, it’s Lobster Diane Feinstein.”
Until the improvement, and afterward, you will find me open, curious and ready to turn anyone into a dish of stewed shellfish.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Past Dollar Days
I’m growing my hair out into a huge 1970’s recession bush.
Keeping with the times.
I am one of earth’s decent bookkeepers. I have an instinctive sense about money. I am not strategic and am more of a responder than a generator at this point. I aspire to generate greater income. Mostly for the sake of my freedom. But in order for the freedom to be truly free, the greater income must come from freedom-inspired activity. No cynics here.
Cycles. Always the cycles. My parents were very nervous about money throughout the 1970’s. Because I was a kid I had other interests, like math, music, mud piles. Money moaning bored me.
I guess it has been imprinted. Because now, money moaning still bores me.
I am very happy with the focus of our current federal administration, with the intelligent President B. Obama at the head of the table. The Republicans, some of them governors, threatening to refuse assistance, are ludicrous.
But I would like to set my sights on future days, when this is not happening. I feel like I’ve seen this movie. It ends terribly. Reagan gets elected, the music gets stupid, the clothes get awful and the gum chewing gets louder.
Time to go inward. Come out with something. The material world, friends…it is on the mend. And the fear about money? No need to worry. All boats are sinking. You are not being thrown out of the pack. And as long as you are in the pack, you’re pretty safe.
Focusing on the doom is not interesting to me. Focusing on what is alive and vital right now? That’s something to look at.
Keeping with the times.
I am one of earth’s decent bookkeepers. I have an instinctive sense about money. I am not strategic and am more of a responder than a generator at this point. I aspire to generate greater income. Mostly for the sake of my freedom. But in order for the freedom to be truly free, the greater income must come from freedom-inspired activity. No cynics here.
Cycles. Always the cycles. My parents were very nervous about money throughout the 1970’s. Because I was a kid I had other interests, like math, music, mud piles. Money moaning bored me.
I guess it has been imprinted. Because now, money moaning still bores me.
I am very happy with the focus of our current federal administration, with the intelligent President B. Obama at the head of the table. The Republicans, some of them governors, threatening to refuse assistance, are ludicrous.
But I would like to set my sights on future days, when this is not happening. I feel like I’ve seen this movie. It ends terribly. Reagan gets elected, the music gets stupid, the clothes get awful and the gum chewing gets louder.
Time to go inward. Come out with something. The material world, friends…it is on the mend. And the fear about money? No need to worry. All boats are sinking. You are not being thrown out of the pack. And as long as you are in the pack, you’re pretty safe.
Focusing on the doom is not interesting to me. Focusing on what is alive and vital right now? That’s something to look at.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Sean Penn My Hero
Sean Penn has always been a hero. Mostly because he is such a good actor. There are not many actors who are capable of complete submergence. Always in awe.
Then, tonight, on the Oscars, making the clearest statement for equal rights for all Americans, specifically the gay ones.
And you just had to say, “Thanks, Sean.”
Thanks, Sean.
Then, tonight, on the Oscars, making the clearest statement for equal rights for all Americans, specifically the gay ones.
And you just had to say, “Thanks, Sean.”
Thanks, Sean.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Talking About Misundestood Lyrics
Sometimes, you substitute the wrong lyrics in a song. Your ear does not hear them correctly. The accent of the singer or lack of diction might make it impossible to discern what is being sung.
Or, you have hundreds of phrases stored in your head and you project one outward that sounds like the one being listened to, your brain choosing the one in your head over what is actually out there in the world. The brain loves short cuts.
When I was a wee thing, in the song Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds, I thought the lyric, “A girl with kaleidoscope eyes,” was “A girl with colitis goes by.”
One can only imagine the amount of colitis in my family that brought that one to the fore.
On a slightly related note, I have a new rule:
“Never eat a hot open turkey sandwich at a junky diner before taking a transcontinental flight.”
Or, you have hundreds of phrases stored in your head and you project one outward that sounds like the one being listened to, your brain choosing the one in your head over what is actually out there in the world. The brain loves short cuts.
When I was a wee thing, in the song Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds, I thought the lyric, “A girl with kaleidoscope eyes,” was “A girl with colitis goes by.”
One can only imagine the amount of colitis in my family that brought that one to the fore.
On a slightly related note, I have a new rule:
“Never eat a hot open turkey sandwich at a junky diner before taking a transcontinental flight.”
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
My, What a Large Package!
Though I am inclined to enjoy a very large package, I am also aware that something this big has the potential to be quite painful unless one relaxes into it. I don’t think anyone is relaxed.
I applaud the breadth of this thing. I assume blending tax cuts with cash infusion might be a winning mixture. Of course, I especially love the investment-in-renewables component.
Now, I want to talk about these salary caps. So let’s say the government puts a cap on the top salaries of bailed out banks, which they have. Won’t this make the competition for high up executives lopsided and thus send the greediest (and maybe best) executives to the not-bailed-out banks? I do think so. Half measures make me see red---and I specifically mean the red circle on the Japanese flag. Remember how their half measures went? Or didn’t?
Perhaps, there needs to be cap laws on ALL businesses. Then the competition can’t lean. That’s what I’m offering up. They do it in so many other countries.
I know some people who resent this whole OBAMA-AS-KING-CAN-DO-NO-WRONG thing. I understand it. I am all for Obama. However, I am disgusted by half measures.
It’s like eradicating those non-indigenous wild cats and not thinking about the horrible uptick in the rabbit population. And bunnies like to eat. The big picture. The big picture!
So as much as I like big packages, I like big pictures more. Especially at my age.
But I am not an economist, just a guy with a hunch about money, and I welcome ALL comments. The floor is open.
What do you think about this huge package? And will you go work on one of those rusting hulks we use for bridges? Do you think infusing here, saving there and ignoring other parts is a winning strategy? Do you feel any more relaxed by all this? What about health care?
I applaud the breadth of this thing. I assume blending tax cuts with cash infusion might be a winning mixture. Of course, I especially love the investment-in-renewables component.
Now, I want to talk about these salary caps. So let’s say the government puts a cap on the top salaries of bailed out banks, which they have. Won’t this make the competition for high up executives lopsided and thus send the greediest (and maybe best) executives to the not-bailed-out banks? I do think so. Half measures make me see red---and I specifically mean the red circle on the Japanese flag. Remember how their half measures went? Or didn’t?
Perhaps, there needs to be cap laws on ALL businesses. Then the competition can’t lean. That’s what I’m offering up. They do it in so many other countries.
I know some people who resent this whole OBAMA-AS-KING-CAN-DO-NO-WRONG thing. I understand it. I am all for Obama. However, I am disgusted by half measures.
It’s like eradicating those non-indigenous wild cats and not thinking about the horrible uptick in the rabbit population. And bunnies like to eat. The big picture. The big picture!
So as much as I like big packages, I like big pictures more. Especially at my age.
But I am not an economist, just a guy with a hunch about money, and I welcome ALL comments. The floor is open.
What do you think about this huge package? And will you go work on one of those rusting hulks we use for bridges? Do you think infusing here, saving there and ignoring other parts is a winning strategy? Do you feel any more relaxed by all this? What about health care?
Monday, February 16, 2009
Is It Porn? Watch her blow it out her nose and mouth.
This weekend, I got to talking about serious sinus issues with a fellow sinus sufferer.
He does way too many antibiotics in my opinion. So I educated him in the fine art of nasal douching.
Then, I said I’d send him the link to my favorite nasal douche product which is the Neilmed system. It’s great because it’s HIGH VOLUME and LOW PRESSURE.
But maybe you knew that already. In any event, I highly recommend it, not just for allergic people, but for anyone who wants to clean out their heads. Especially during cold and flu season. You blow in a load of salty liquid, you kill it all.
So, I compiled an email with hyperlinks to send to my friend about this product. And to my fabulous surprise, there was a video! Complete with demonstration. And the expelled waste.
Watch this thin, blond woman blow liquid through her head. It’s really some sort of nerdy healthcare porn. She spits.
Nose Porn
He does way too many antibiotics in my opinion. So I educated him in the fine art of nasal douching.
Then, I said I’d send him the link to my favorite nasal douche product which is the Neilmed system. It’s great because it’s HIGH VOLUME and LOW PRESSURE.
But maybe you knew that already. In any event, I highly recommend it, not just for allergic people, but for anyone who wants to clean out their heads. Especially during cold and flu season. You blow in a load of salty liquid, you kill it all.
So, I compiled an email with hyperlinks to send to my friend about this product. And to my fabulous surprise, there was a video! Complete with demonstration. And the expelled waste.
Watch this thin, blond woman blow liquid through her head. It’s really some sort of nerdy healthcare porn. She spits.
Nose Porn
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
How Will They Say It?
After the banks are sort of nationalized and the automobile industry is sort of nationalized and healthcare is sort of nationalized, and they all presumably function, how will the conservatives wrestle everything back so they can profit from these businesses?
You know, there is the old post office thing pushed around by Righties. “Government doesn’t work. Just look at the Post Office.” I never understood this since I have never held anything but complete respect and gratitude for the Post Office. I have never had anything lost, ever. And I ship and receive all sorts of things.
So, I think the new saying could be and should have always been, “Government works. Just look at the Post Office.”
So maybe you have to wait on line a little bit. Maybe you’ll make a new friend or fall in love. Anytime spent away from Facebook is good for you!
It’s all about The Post Office. The second ounce is just seventeen cents. A bargain!
You know, there is the old post office thing pushed around by Righties. “Government doesn’t work. Just look at the Post Office.” I never understood this since I have never held anything but complete respect and gratitude for the Post Office. I have never had anything lost, ever. And I ship and receive all sorts of things.
So, I think the new saying could be and should have always been, “Government works. Just look at the Post Office.”
So maybe you have to wait on line a little bit. Maybe you’ll make a new friend or fall in love. Anytime spent away from Facebook is good for you!
It’s all about The Post Office. The second ounce is just seventeen cents. A bargain!
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
February Spring
I think it might have been warmer in New York today than it was in Los Angeles. Or close.
I love a moist day, in the forties.
New York is a funky town. I grew up here, but since living in Los Angeles, I have gotten used to a pretty unchanging climate.
Here, in the apple gigante, the weather changes every few hours it seems. From my apartment window, looking out over Queens to the Upper East Side of Manhattan, I get a full view of Mother Nature and her shenanigans.
It’s pretty exciting.
I think I am allowed one weather blog entry every three years. This is it.
I love a moist day, in the forties.
New York is a funky town. I grew up here, but since living in Los Angeles, I have gotten used to a pretty unchanging climate.
Here, in the apple gigante, the weather changes every few hours it seems. From my apartment window, looking out over Queens to the Upper East Side of Manhattan, I get a full view of Mother Nature and her shenanigans.
It’s pretty exciting.
I think I am allowed one weather blog entry every three years. This is it.
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