My friend Stefan has long had a major mancrush on Dirk Nowitzki and a few years ago was lucky enough to meet the big German personally. Stefan's family has deep ties with the local Ukrainian community and during the summers they have lots of interesting cultural events out in various rural spots outside the city. One of these events is a sort of "Tranny Prom" that, while unfamiliar to most Americans, remains a cherished—and rather progressive!—part of Ukrainian culture. When Stefan asked Dirk if he would join him for the festivities he, apparently (and this is just Stefan's word), was delighted. These kind of events are pretty big in Germany, too, and not at all something he'd been able to do much since coming to the states. Stefan's parents got some photos, of course, and though I'm sure he didn't want all his friends to see them, his sister posted some on her Facebook profile. What does this have to do with anything, you ask? Well, today ESPN.com featured this headline that, contextually, seemed to make no sense:
"Whoa, who does the editing over there, eh?" Yeah, seems silly! However, for the few of us in the know, this is hardly a surprising revelation and unfortunately for Stefan, he seems to have blown his chance at being the father of a future "gigantic great white basketball hope".
Yesterday I had the good—and random—fortune of meeting actor Keith Powell when he came into my store looking for an Edward Albee play (I forget which one now). You may recognize him from 30 Rock and/or Law & Order and/or some commercials, but I recognized him because I wrote the review of his hilarious web series Keith Powell Directs A Play for my Tilzy.tv gig.
Normally I don't try to chat up the celebrities that come into the bookstore, but since I had a "personal connection" I felt it was a no-brainer. He seemed genuinely enthused that I had liked his little pet project (and probably also that I recognized him) and told me that he's waiting to hear back about financing for a possible second season of KPDAP. It was one of those "Hey, people can be really cool!" moments that kinda made my day. In return I thought I'd try to spread the word about Mr. Powell's talents, so go check out his website, www.PowelltothePeople.net, where you can find a bunch of shorts he's done. In the meantime, get started on KPDAP right here with the first episode:
Yeah, Yeah, it's been waaaaay to long between posts here, but I've been busy and also (pat on back forthcoming) I got into the New School's creative writing program. Hooray for me! That doesn't justify the non-posting, but I was both excited and not thinking of here.
Anyway, per my usual morning routine I checked out Deadspin this morning to find this post on Hammer's "2 Legit 2 Quit" video. InGameNow put together the lineup of then-stars featured in the video to see how "legit" Hammer's picks were back in 1991. Looks like Hammer was a better judge of ability than of finances (or religious philosophies). As the proud owner of an authentic MC Hammer tshirt (that I wear as regularly as it's washed, which is often) and former youthful owner of several pairs of Zubaz brand pantaloons (apparently they still make these...frightening!), my interest was immediately piqued and my blogmuse (bluse?) beckoned.
What do we find here? Mostly Bay Area athletes and a couple random folks like "Dush" Clemens, Neon Deion and both the Dallas Cowboys and Atlanta Falcons cheerleaders. Hammer also tossed a bone to us white dudes with the Chris Mullin cameo, an awesome pick since I used to rock Mullin's Golden State #17 jersey through most of middle school (along with various flannels that I still possess).
Watch the vid and go check out the Legitness rankings at InGameNow.
March Madness is upon us, which also signals the time of year when many a whimsical "final four" type bracket appears to help us keep sanity at work. I wish I had know of this before, but Name of the Year is hosting its second annual "Name of the Year" Tournament. Throughout 2008 people sent in their favorite goofy (and real!!!) names as candidates for this award. Filling out one of these brackets is far, far, far more difficult than doing an NCAA bracket. It's also way funnier.
Print out brackets and get your friends together for a tournament that really matters: the Best Name of the Year.
Liam interrupted an ongoing email discussion about the current situation in Gaza with a link to this youngster. Not only can this kid cook (what is he, like 5?!), but I'm sure he'd figure out a way to mediate a cease-fire and broker peace between Israel & Palestine while telling a story about cookies.
I don't know if anyone out there is familiar with East Village Thai, a tiny (as in very, very small) place on E.7th street, but they make the best motherf*#%ing massaman curry* in the history of mankind (that I've ever tasted). For the uneducated, massaman curry (at least at EV Thai) contains both avocado and cashews.
BOTH OF THOSE THINGS ARE DELICIOUS AND THEN THEY GO AND MAKE IT A CURRY!
How can you seriously top that? I haven't the foggiest idea. Before lunchtime I was in a decent mood, having finished up another piece for Tilzy.tv, but now I'm in a really great mood. Just because of this curry. Now, of course, I'm in desperate need of naptime, but that's a different story altogether.
*For the record I get mine vegetarian, because I'm a weenis.
This morning, as I entered the Myrtle/Broadway JMZ station, I had the delightful opportunity to have my bag searched by "New York's finest". Not the first time, I might add. Today marks the third (3rd!) time since April that the NYPD has so graciously chosen me at "random" as people came into the station (2 have been at Myrtle, 1 was at the Flushing JM). I exhibited my displeasure to the officers in the best passive-aggressive manner I could muster, but there's really no way around it, they don't let you on if you don't consent to the search (so much for "voluntary", eh?).
Clearly they did not find anything, as I'm, a) not a bomber/terrorist and, b) because a terrorist is not so stupid as to actually bring a bomb onto the subway in this manner. I maintain that the only reason we're forced to submit to these is to maintain a base level of fear among the populace and maybe, just maybe, catch someone with drugs in their bags who may not know any better and put up a fuss (the latter being a total stretch).
I'm curious to know if the police have ever found any suspicious materials in a commuter's bag. My money (if I had any) would be on an emphatic "NO". If the police ever foiled some terror threat on the subway you damn well know it'd be all over the news and everyone would hear about it and the whole scheme would be lauded as a success in the face of all detractors and critics.
So if anyone knows if any statistics are kept (if they're kept at all) please let me know where I could begin an inquiry. Or, if anyone has already done such an inquiry, I'd love to see what the results are. Unfortunately, I've got too much on my plate at the moment to start digging around in what I fear would be an ultimately fruitless pursuit.
Hey everyone, anyone, I just got a really encouraging phone call from my friend Tyler. A mutual friend of ours, that we've known basically our whole lives, had a bone marrow transplant a couple weeks ago and as of right now the recovery prognosis is looking good.
Most of this site is comprised of inanities. I put things I love on pedestals or take a hammer to the multitudinous, ossified towers of bullshit that I observe near daily. Rarely do I post about something liable to make me, never mind any readers, face the tremendous wrath of their bottled emotions. But now, during the high religious festival season, seems an appropriate enough time for a spiritless, religionless, anti-everything jerk like myself to celebrate something extraordinary.
I've known Jonathan Goss since I was about five years old. We played youth sports together, attended the same schools until high school graduation, even made a couple short films together. When I abandoned my hometown for greener pastures I pretty much abandoned most of the people I grew up with as well. Now, in the age of Facebook, a lot of things have come flooding back that I would have rather left in the past. Thankfully, however, I didn't learn about Jonathan from any status update. At our college reunion, Tyler (sidebar: I went to college with Tyler though met him through Jon when we were very young. Their mothers are great friends.) informed me that Jon was diagnosed with leukemia. I got sporadic updates on Jon's condition whenever Tyler knew something, for which I am truly grateful.
At some point during his ordeal this year, Jonathan started a blog based on his ongoing experience facing leukemia and his eventual need for a bone marrow transplant. Jon lives in LA now where he is building a career as a screenwriter. I still really don't have any contact with him other than reading his blog updates, which he stopped the day before his transplant. Hopefully, as he regains his strength, he'll begin writing there again, about coming through the other side of the void. He has faced the great radiation and he has done it with his trademark grin. I haven't seen the kid in almost ten years, but that grin is exactly the same.
In the time since I first heard about all this I began to feel guilty for severing so many of the ties I had to the place I grew up. I didn't so much burn bridges as I left them to decay, much like the government does with its infrastructure. Not everyone I grew up with was so provincial-minded, though most of the really great minds (and, honestly, I include myself here), left the confines and limited opportunity of small-city New England. I've found out there are a few old friends here in NYC that I've been trying to catch up with and quite a few are out in LA as well.
Tomorrow I head "home" for the holidays and, as usual, I won't be there long enough to visit with anyone who may be around. Really, I'm fine with that. I still need my distance. But more than anything, I'll be thinking about something more important than my own fucked up feelings. I'll be thinking about Jonathan, in a hospital room in Los Angeles. Too many of us blog-addicts become locked in our self-absorbed worlds, dwelling on the tree that blocks our view and failing to see the forest. Just in time for a new year I've seen the forest again and there is a Chesire grin floating amongst the branches.
So as the winter solstice passes and 2009 arrives, I invite any and all followers here to go read Jonathan's writings over at BlastCount. Besides the directed musings of a talented, growing writer, you'll see an amazing army of friends and family. They have commented on his posts and sent him wishes, blessings, many of whom probably have only the faintest connection to him, but realize that his battle makes any of ours pale. I'm sure most of you know someone who is facing a bigger battle and is in need of your thoughts, especially at this time of year.
Happy Holidays, everyone. Jonathan, we're with you, buddy.
Until a couple days ago Allison Cekala was the reigning (and undisputed) champion of amazing-postcard-sending. Now a challenger has stepped forward with a brilliant opening salvo. One of my roommates, Perin Hailey McNelis, left us (me and Ben) postcards before she left for Guatemala and I must say, I'm impressed. Alli, after your last lacklustre performance with that satellite photo of Maine's coast (which isn't bad, but it pales in comparison to most of your previous efforts), you really need to step it up...
Last night my band played its first show in a year and a half. It's essentially a new band and we're still working out a name, though I'll have more news on that soon (along with a few demo tracks, hopefully). Anyway, there were a few hiccups last night (Violent Bullshit apparently never committed and Said Fury may just break up), but they may have just been blessings in disguise because the three of us that played ripped. A ton of people showed up, which was a bit shocking as they seemed to arrive while I played our first song with my eyes closed.
Not to toot my (our) own horn, but folks really enjoyed our set, so that's encouraging, because, frankly, we had no idea what was going to happen. MAW and ANIMAL put in stellar sets as well, so we all had a big metal-ly love fest afterwards. That was also nice because none of us seem to be able to handle compliments and things kinda get awkward, even though it's nice to hear. However, I'm proud to post here the finest compliment of the night, courtesy of Noga and Liam:
I think we have a winning t-shirt design on hour hands.
Ugh. Long Island. Wedding. Actually, as far as we're aware it's a shotgun wedding. So that's kinda humorous I guess. But this will make three weddings in less than a year for myself and my college friends. We're a bit tired of it, to be honest. To add some levity to the situation, I decided to take some liberties with the invite. Maybe my friends will be the only ones that find this amusing. Also, not sure who is actually taking account of these RSVPs, but good luck to them...
I don't have a review for this, just a quick message that I just met Art Spiegelman. He just came in to sign all of our copies of his newest collection, Breakdowns.
So if anybody is looking for a great holidy gift, or is a Spiegelman fan, come down to Shakespeare & Co. (716 Broadway, Manhattan) and get a SIGNED copy. Also, they're 20% right now!
If any readers out there doubt the veracity of the claims that Japanese aquifers have been spiked with hallucinogens, please watch the following video. I'd like for anybody to come up with a plausible explanation for this:
I still can't believe what I just watched. That drummer is so good, too. What? Why? Huh?
On the day that we celebrate the beginnings of the systematic elimination of the indigenous peoples of North America for the sake of the white man, I offer these quasi-relevant tidbits:
1) Wayne & Co. over at Hooks So Big recently posted a new Slayer track. It's one of the best things I've heard from them in a while. This track is so hot you can just put all your food next to your speakers and it'll be cooked in about 2:31.
2) My parents are on their way to my place now to start cooking. Is it hilarious that I'm almost 28 and yet too poor to get a bunch of food to truly "host"? I don't know the answer to this.
3) The other day my new special lady friend sent me a link to this article from The Onion and then asked me, "what do you love about thanksgiving if you can't eat turkey? i mean, do you get some tofurkey? or are you really into cranberry sauce and green beans?"
Well, here's my answer to that:
I like thanksgiving because there's gluttony involved and that's one of my favorite cardinal sins. Lust is a pretty good one, too, but you probably figured that out already. And sloth, i like that one sometimes.
Favorite thanksgiving foods (in no particular order):
1) Tofurkey. Some veggies HATE this stuff. I am not one of them, though I do make better gravy. 2) Pie. apple, pumpkin, blueberry. Others are acceptable, but those three are tops. 3) Mashed potatoes. god, i love mashed potatoes 4) My gramma's (miss you, Gram!) mushrooms & onions. This is basically onions and mushrooms cooked in butter and salt for a long time. I never liked it as a kid, but goddamn now i love it 5) I'm probably missing something else like stuffing or squash. (ed.-Wow, now I'm starving. This is gonna be awesome.)
Oddly enough i hate cranberry sauce. Yes, I hail from the world's second-largest producer of these little, bitter fruits (Wisconsin, I have a feeling your whole family's going down), however, cranberry juice (lightly diluted with water, trust me) gives me a pants tent. It's weird, i know.
Oh, and regarding that onion article...that's why i don't spend much (any) time in my hometown anymore. Some folks are all, "lemme know when you'll be home for thanksgiving or christmas!" and I always say, "yeah, i'll be home for a few days." And then I'm at home for 2 days, eat a ton of food, drink all my dad's beer and then come back to the city well-rested. Much better that way.
Happy Thanksgiving and to all the Massachusett, Pequot, Narragansett and whoever else my Euro forebears killed off, my sincerest apologies. You were right all along...
