April's Aesthetic Action (14)

A list of the movies that I watched in April...now with new and improved links! Total movie count for the month: 14

6: Amores Perros
8: Evil
9: The King and I
10: This Film is Not Yet Rated
11: Sexy Beast, The Believer
12: US v. John Lennon
15: Gunner Palace
16: Brown Bunny
18: Hard Candy
21: Noises Off
26: Half Nelson
27: The Dreamers
29: Occupation: Dreamland

A Brief Look at the State of the Media

We're always talking about the State of the State, and the State of the Union, and the various mental and emotional states of the people living in the states. But we're all products of our environment (for better or worse) and part of this environment, obviously, is the media.

Unfortunately, the media has decided to bombard us with the most sensational, irrational and headline selling stories in big bold 36 point font, then burying or completely ignoring other stories according to some sort of um, well, I don't know what it's according to. But take into consideration the picture here. This is from the front page of a "well known, respected" news source. Let's examine it point by point.

Let's start with the headline. This is traditionally the point in any newspaper where they will put out the day's biggest news. Apparently, the most important thing that happened in the world today was the death of a single American entertainment pilot. Now, while a true tragedy to be sure...is this really the most important news headline of the day?

Let's get to the second line though...did they back it up with a solid story in the wings? Not hardly. A story about clues to the VaTech killer's motives. Ok. Let's be clear. I mean no insensitivity to the tragedy suffered by the students, staff and families both directly and indirectly through this guy's actions. But this has occupied the news far too long at this point. He was fucked up. He shot a ton of unarmed and helpless people, then he shot himself. I think the fact that this is still in the news does a few things. First, it tries to rationalize and find an answer to something that doesn't have one. Secondly, it serves as motivation for any other sick soul that sees the deceased get this kind of attention and scrutiny far after his suicide and thinks, "why not me?"

Second headline...more VaTech. Third headline, NASA shooter. Then it goes humanitarian rice story, us building a wall around a sect of Iraqis and our troops benefiting from "dumb luck." In fact, when you look at all the side stories, you wonder if anything really happened in the world today at all. I mean, did any news happen that wasn't directly related to Americans and/or some stupid story line meant to get readers?

It's easy to show a Blue Angel's death as a headline and sell papers. But isn't CNN's responsibility to keep Americans informed on the state of the world and their increasingly tentative place in it? Make Blue Angels a side story, and give us another story about a bus bomb killing 148 Iraqis. Unfortunately, it's sensational, sells papers, and is just more Iraq news (you almost get the feeling from the hasty Blue Angel Headline that they were looking to be able to put anything in that top spot OTHER than Iraq (let's face it, everyone is tired of hearing how bad things are over there, so let's talk about something else)), but at least it tells an important story that we have slept through for far too long now.

In conclusion, I would encourage everyone to look for some alternative news sources.

Fellatio

That's right. Fellatio. Would you believe it? I didn't. I watched a movie the other day (I won't say which one in case some people don't want the surprise spoiled for them, but if anyone wants to know what the movie is, they can ask me) and there, at the end of this feature length studio film is a full on, non-simulated blow job scene. I felt like I had fallen out of the movie I had been watching and into a porn video, and I'm not too partial to porn.

It was quite shocking! All in all, I didn't think the movie was that great, aside from its surprise ending (and I'm not talking about the happy ending, I'm talking about an actual surprise), but I can tell you that it is probably one of the bigger stars you'll ever see give head on camera. I was going to name this blog, "_____ _____ gives head!" but then I realized that I didn't want to ruin the (and don't click on these if you don't want the surprise ruined!) movie, actress or surprise (this was going to be a link to the actual scene from the movie, but I couldn't find it anywhere) for anyone that wanted to find out for themselves.

I will say, even if you want to fast forward through this A-lister giving this schmoe a blow job, the movie might still get you at the end when you realize the point. I will say, I think every movie she's in is fantastic just for the fact that she's in it...she always tackles the risqué roles with style and grace. Cheers to her!

Gunner Palace (movie review)

The war in Iraq, which technically is no longer a war, has been going on since March of 2003. Shortly after the fall of Baghdad, a documentary film maker went into Iraq to look closely at the troop situation on the ground, focusing on a segment housed in Uday Hussein's old palace. Called Gunner Palace, this film offers views of the situation in Iraq that are hopeful, frightening, sad, and desperate all at the same time.

There are a few things I find noting about this movie...the first is how obvious it was that the average troops serving us over there are fresh out of high school, usually from small and often poverty stricken towns. While they can't usually compare their towns to Iraq, they also don't have much of a visual idea of how to make it better. Some of these troops discuss the raids and attacks looking for insurgents in much the same way that they would discuss a cool method of killing someone in a video game. It makes you wonder, if that is the general mindset of troops on the ground, what kind of progress we can make with a post high school pre collegiate troop force.

Secondly, it brought to mind how much we have to fear with the situation in Iraq (not that anyone needs a reminder). This film was shot 4 years ago, and yet you can see the beginning of anti-US sentiment. Pro-Saddam uprisings happen a few times, and this is long before he was captured, let alone tried and hung for a worldwide audience. The population seems split over whether they want to attack the opposite sect of Islam (Sunni v. Shiite), the US troops, or the terrorists already working at both of the previous two.

The movie is told through the eyes of the cameraman, the adventures of the troops living in "Gunner's Palace," and the scenes and activities that pervade the street life of Iraq. Often, troops freestyle about their conditions. What's hard to comprehend is that now, three years later, it is likely that the majority of the stars of this film are either dead, injured, or on a second or maybe even third tour of duty in Iraq.

Finally, my ultimate shock, following on the heels of the previous documentary I reviewed here last week, was that this film was rated PG-13. It featured real life violence, some nudity and an exorbitant amount of vulgar language. I'm not sure if the idea here was to keep the rating low so that a majority of people could see this important film, or if it just slid by the MPAA, but I was shocked when I looked at some of movies rated PG-13, R and NC-17, compared this one and thought it deserved the R.

I watched another documentary last week that would bring tears to your eyes when you think of the impact, social strategy and overall genius of John Lennon, and just how much we could use him given our current global and political climate. Both Gunner Palace and US. v. John Lennon are worth your time and energy if you want to see something a little less fictional than your usual fare.

Much ADuke About Nothing

Almost a year ago now, I blogged on what seemed to me an all too hasty rush to judgment against the Duke Lacrosse Players. Following several months of investigations, many changed stories and a few outrageous lies by a prosecutor, I blogged again on what appeared to be mounting evidence of their innocence.

Now, I don't think this needs anything more than one last follow up and a warning: Be slow in your rush to judgment. In today's ultra saturated media climate, it's easy to think because some reporter said it or some newspaper printed it, it's true. This is a real good case of a sports program, a university and several innocent individuals being dragged through the mud with no good reason whatsoever.

This Film Will Never Be Rated

If you get a chance or have Netflix, check out "This Film Is Not Yet Rated." It's a documentary that examines the MPAA's method and madness in terms of giving ratings to films. Most interesting in this examination are the following points (the cliff's notes if you will, for those not inclined to sit through the movie):

1) Sex always draws a worse rating than violence

2) Homosexual and "aberrational" sex are more likely to receive NC-17's (keep in mind that studios stop marketing and spending ad money on NC-17 flicks, basically condeming them to a slow video death or cult ramp-up), for the same or lesser act than a straight sex film

a) Masturbation scene from American Pie v. masturbation scene from But I'm a Cheerleader
b) Anal sex scenes in American Psycho v. anal sex scene in Boys Don't Cry

3) The members of the ratings committee are kept secret, but the members of the appeals board for directors that don't like the rating they receive include several heads of theaters, as well as....get this.....two clergymen.

4) The MPAA claims that all of its raters have kids between 3 and 17. In fact, most of them are 17 or older, the majority in their 20s.

5) The rating system is vague, arbitrary and established nowhere in law, yet their members consistently have an incredible amount of influence over the way movies get released and their content.
Don't believe me that it's vague? Check this out:
http://www.mpaa.org/flmrat_ratings.asp

I specifically like the line, "NC-17 does not necessarily mean obscene or pornographic; in the oft-accepted or legal meaning of those words. The Board does not and cannot mark films with those words. These are legal terms for courts to decide. The reasons for the application of an NC-17 rating can be excessive violence, sex, aberrational behavior, drug abuse or any other elements which, when present, most parents would consider too strong and therefore off-limits for viewing by their children."

Now would you want major studio heads, clergymen and average parents telling you that violence, killing, raping, assault against women...these things can usually stay PG-13 if they're done right, and R if they aren't. You can watch a 16 year old boy masturbate half naked on top of an apple pie at an R level, but a girl masturbating on top of her pajamas, with her finger, nothing showing (But I'm a Cheerleader), earns an NC-17.

Consider this: Excessive violence, dismemberment and degradation of women is totally cool for an R rating (Sin City), but a story of three young people finding their way in the world and exploring their sexuality with each other (the Dreamers) gets an NC-17. Exactly what are we trying to show our society, and especially our youngest generation is ok here? Would we rather have more high schoolers trying blow jobs and sex, looking for ways to enjoy themselves and discover themselves in the process because they saw some explicit sexuality in a movie. Or would we rather they load up some guns, thinking about how many people they might be able to kill in their high school, and then have hundreds, maybe thousands of movies vividly depicting various ways to accomplish such a feat?

The same guy (Jack Valenti, who, scary enough, came from politics) ran the MPAA from its inception in the 40s to 2005. How good can a censorship board be if the guy running it is that antiquated? In Basic Instinct, you can see Sharon Stone as she uncrosses and recrosses her legs, clearly seeing pubic hair. In this scene, she does this as an act of distraction, clearly exploiting her own sexuality. It's one of the calling card scenes of the movie. This movie was rated R.

The Cooler with Maria Bello and William H. Macy had to cut a scene to avoid an NC-17 rating...the scene was late in the film when the two stars have finally brought their relationship and care for each other...they're in bed, and as Macy goes down on her, you can see some of her pubic hair.

So blatant exhibitionism, and what in fact amounts to an extreme objectification of women should be seen by people...but pubic hair in an act of physical and emotional connection...now you've just gone too far.

I could go on and on with this, but start looking at whether or not you can see the difference between a PG-13 and an R. Then see if you can pinpoint why one movie is worse than another. Ask yourself why a bit of pubic hair during a lovemaking scene might grab an NC where a masked man stabbing in the breast and then using the knife to pull out the breast implant (Scary Movie) only earns you an R.

We're setting people up to accept violence, usually without realizing the consequences, and becoming numb to it. In Bonds movies, he can kill 20 guys in a scene, and as long as there is no blood, they can keep it PG-13. Kids don't watch that and ever get shown the true nature of death, or the gore that will inevitably accompany it. Violence is glorified, readily available and accepted. It is also often downplayed in terms of actual outcome of violence.

Sex though...sex is bad. Our society and culture has placed such a ridiculous taboo on the exposure and use of the human body that we hide it, obscure the wonders of it, and push sexuality behind closed doors. A disappointing majority of the American population refuses to acknowledge and accept people with differing views and feelings on sexuality, but find it acceptable that we march guns, tanks and all the violence that follows into Iraq in order to "spread freedom."

Gimme a break.

When I was watching this movie, I thought of Eyes Wide Shut and the orgy scenes in that. I had overlooked what this movie pointed out...there had been characters digitally placed into the orgy scenes to cover the actual sex. The following is a clip I pulled from the Wikipedia article on the movie that can be found here:

(it's an amazing movie if you haven't seen it...Despite rumors that Kubrick didn't like it, I found it eerie, suspenseful and shot with some pretty spectacular camera techniques.)

"American censorship controversy

Citing contractual obligations to deliver an R rating, Warner Bros. digitally altered the orgy scene for the American release of Eyes Wide Shut, blocking out images of graphic sexuality by inserting additional figures into the scene to obscure the view, thus avoiding an adults-only NC-17 rating that might have limited distribution of the film, as some large American theaters and video store operators have a policy that disallows films with that rating. This alteration of Kubrick's vision antagonized many cinephiles, as they argued that Kubrick had never been shy about ratings: A Clockwork Orange had an X-rating.

The version released in Europe and Australia was completely unchanged (theatrical and DVD release) with ratings mostly for people of 16 (Europe, in Germany) and 18+ (Australia) years of age. In New Zealand and in Europe, the uncensored version has been shown on public television without controversy. In Australia, it was broadcast on public television (on Network Ten) with the alterations in the American version for people of 15 years of age and older, blurring out, and cutting the images of explicit sexuality."

Anyone wanna go see a movie with me?

Red Doves/Blue Moons

There have been enough questions recently about what I'm saying in my song that I thought I'd post the lyrics. I also didn't have anything really exciting to say about the weekend and thought this might make interesting reading, and at the very least, a new post. If you want a copy of the song, email me or tell me on myspace and I'll send it on over. Click if you'd like to hear Alan's version of the song.

Red Doves & Blue Moons:

Red doves green horses and blue moons,
Omens of things that are coming soon,
Psychadelic relic purple mushrooms, stranded in a token broken room
As we look to the sky for a sign of why, cryptic wishes multiply,
Falsify, rectify, then silently, rapidly amplify,
Will we fly in the future sky? With broken dreams as a cause to cry?
Watch from the side as the vultures ride, drain our times with the truths they’ve lied
Locked in the heavy chains of pride, with every strain as a way to die
Listen carefully to the things you see as every drop is a pop at new beauty

As the forgotten songs of a time long gone filter through memories like smoke through bongs,
I nightly hold tightly to the melodies left before I’m alone and cast asea
I laugh at the brutal things around, the deafening silence of a sound
As it bounds, breaks, echoes fake, mingled in nicely with the last mistake.

Has it come to pass?
This poorly written moment lost again from my grasp,
And I never hoped to hold it
If yesterday’s a memory, tomorrow a vision,
The only way I can see it is today’s a sort of prison.

Red d___ and blue mo__s, omens of things that are coming soon
As the day gains a nightly bloom,
Cast quickly into next week’s hue,
Swept under the rug with next year’s broom,
Always obscured by the promise of soon
If we can’t all stay in yesterday and can’t escape today, there’s not that much more to say.

Crystal leaves and golden looms, omens of things that are coming soon
Lost in the maze of another haze, thinking of days that could have been saved
In the busted dawn of a love gone wrong, blown apart by words of psalms
Is a wicked trust too much to touch? Frosted over with licks of golden rust,
Watch it burst then watch it bleed, frozen in the thirst of forgotten greed
You can’t deceive tormented wrath, festered into fragmented laughs
Let it pass, make it dash, close your eyes to the pry of the camera’s flash
As social lightning crashes down, buried in the garbage of your old hometown.

The tortured scream of a midnight dream, lost forever in a classic movie scene
Watch as the screen turns to melted flesh, boiled and spoiled with all the rest
Ice it drowns, cold water burns, looking frantically for a misguided turn
Slowly pirourette then reset, jumbled in the loss of a discarded bet

As we sit here, you and I, silently contemplating reasons why
Not really sure what we need to find
As skyscrapers taper through fragile minds
Will we know, will we be, will we find the locale of our destinies?
Can we really hold out any hope of life being more than an elaborate joke?
I don’t think so, but I’ll hold my breath, ironically bringing on an early death
What is left, what is fixed, how much more can join the mix?
The fix is already in, make the call, read the writing on the bathroom stall
While a limp may be better than a crawl, it’s much more likely to bring the fall
And when it comes, brings us low, how much more will there be to know?
As the pure white snow turns quickly brown, making shit of the virgin newborn ground
Mountain mechanizations of moving motivation
Sleek hesitations bring salutations
Lost with the wealth of the forgotten nations, sullied, burdened and already tainted
Lumped together with the rotten brood, scrambling, fractured, tortured, skewed
With the clock ticking down to the count of two,
There’s not too much left for us to do.

Has it come to pass?
This poorly written moment lost again from my grasp,
And I never hoped to hold it
If yesterday’s a memory, tomorrow a vision,
The only way I can see it is today’s a sort of prison.

Red doves & blue moons, omens of things that are coming soon
As the day gains a nightly bloom,
Cast quickly into next week’s hue,
Swept under the rug with next year’s broom,
Always obscured by the promise of soon
If we can’t all stay in yesterday and can’t escape today, there’s not that much more to say.

A New Season, New TV and other New Junk

Baseball season kicked off for the Giants on Tuesday, and we had a crew there in full force. Picture a 4th floor rooftop with fridge and bbq, beer, mimosas, handmade burger patties and 20 of your nearest and dearest. Then picture that on a workday. That was the scene at 11 am on Tuesday morning as many of us took off work to get faded and watch the Giants lose 7-0 to the Padres.

That sucks, but hey, when you can spend a work day out in the sunshine rather than stuck in a cubicle, and faded with friends than under the watchful eye of your meaner boss, all is well. Besides, Bonds hit a single and then stole a base. Talk about 2001 all over again!

Got paid on my second sale this week, so the next few are going to be focused on picking out my new tv, which is going to be an exciting endeavor. I'm looking at 46" flat screen LCDs. Sweetness.

Went to the ballgame last night to see the Giants beat the Padres 5-3, even though Benitez was intent on giving the game up with 2 outs in the ninth. Painful, but worthwhile. Maybe that one out will give him some confidence going forward.

That's all from this end. The weekend should be pretty busy, with a meet tomorrow, partying on Saturday night and the annual Easter brunch at the country club, where all sorts of amazing food awaits.

In other news, I got my camera back from Best Buy yesterday, so there will be more visuals for you all to enjoy as you read the blogs!

Cheers for now.

Don't Drink Pear Vodka

That's my warning to you all. That shit is tricky. Let me walk you through my day. It starts at 3pm at Zena's house for a bbq that's going to last all night. It's T's birthday, so the celebration is on, and I show up with 2 Mickey's for me and one bottle of Pear Absolut for the party. I finish my first forty in conjunction with the end of the first basketball game, and am crushed that Georgetown loses. But I know that all of that will be erased if Florida succeeds in knocking off UCLA.

At this point, it's early yet, and the party is myself, Jessie, Renee, Zena, Tiff, T, Blair, and a few others. I start my second forty as the second game starts, and people start to show up in numbers. As UCLA goes steadily down the tubes, so does my forty, and the joints start kicking in. It's at this point that I get to meet Haley, X's ex, and I start to feel a little loopy from the combination of the substances I'm downing like there's not going to be a tomorrow.

The night wears on and the party is packed now. Christina shows up from work, the couches are moved and a dance party ensues. At this point I break out the half of the Bonne Sante sandwich I've been storing in the fridge (prosciutto, bacon and thousand island dressing sounds about right)and chow into that. I'm approached by a few smokers, Julia included, and luckily I came prepared with a strawberry swisher. It's blunt time in the city.

This is where my night disappears. Someone begs me to do a shot. I explain that I am not a shot taker. They tell me it's really easy, very tasty, and I should try one. Not being one to disappoint, I do. It tastes like heaven. I ask what's in it and am told that it's pomegranate juice mixed with pear vodka. I'm enthralled. I've never had an easier shot in my life. This kind of thing should be illegal.

I convince Aliza that she needs some too. I'm told this morning that I force feed both of us somewhere around ten of these things. Not so good of an idea. I don't know how I get outside, but before I know it, I'm standing on the steps outside Zena's door, and much to my surprise, I'm throwing up all over them.

Now usually, I can backtrack and pinpoint a cause of throwing up. A shot didn't go down well. I coughed so much that I threw up, I'm too drunk. I remember the feeling of needing to throw up and make it someplace safe. Not this time. I have no idea how I chose the spot, how I got to the spot, or what triggered me. All I know is that Renee is rubbing my back and I can't stop puking. So. Fucking. Gross. However, while I usually hate it, I remember this as being cathartic, even telling Renee several times "oh that's better, I think I'm done now," before starting in again. I'm not sure how we get back to Christina's house, but I'm sure a cab had to be involved. I'm told that she needed to undress me because I passed out on top of her bed in all my clothes.

Today, I feel like a truck ran me over, then backed up for seconds. Don't trust that pear vodka...it'll taste and feel like you're drinking a Clearly Canadian, and then hit you like a brick when you're through. In the shower, I almost lost it because my shampoo smelled like pear. There is currently a pit of confusion where my stomach used to be, and if my headache goes away sometime in the next two hours, I'll consider myself lucky.

Big apologies to the neighbors who had to find that on their stairs this morning, and many thanks to Zena for hosting, T for having, and the rest of the revelers for attending what was a most excellent house party. Hopefully I'll be sober in time for Tuesday's opening day festivities. If you don't know, I recommend asking somebody.

March Movie Madness (10)

The movies that I watched in March...
5: The Warrior
7: Babel
10: Black Snake Moan
12: Fast Food Nation
13: An Inconvenient Truth
15: Casino Royale
18: Hurlyburly
19: Malcolm X
25: The Science of Sleep
29: Little Miss Sunshine

All Sorts of Randomness (or my City Circuit)

Last night gets about as random as it can get. It starts with Beirut at 518 before the Giants game with Zena. Even though it's a preseason game, we're pretty excited, especially after a few games. We head over there in about the 4th inning, but not before leaving the apartment and running into a big group of guys hanging around outside the door on the street. I"m trying to protect us to move past them, and hear, "Is your name Adam? Is that you _____ (my last name, erased for protective purposes)?" I have no idea who this guy is, but he looks familiar, went to Crocker, and talks about blazing with me and Parker back at the old house.

"You still blaze man?" Look who you're asking! They hand me the blunt they're killing, and I watch in amusement as they all try to hit on Zena, even asking for a number to which she responds, "I'm a lesbian." They look at me like they don't believe this, but I tell them, that's the case. When they offer her the blunt, she declines, and one of them says, "doesn't like guys, doesn't like weed, I'm shit out of luck." Good observation buddy.

I've been told that her ex is at the game on a date, but we're not going to look for them. Of course, these are the first two people, avec the children, that we run into in the vastness of the ballpark. Of all the people and places in the stadium, we literally walk right into them on their date. Weird and random.

We stay through the end of the game, which ends 2-2 in the 9th. She goes home to "power nap" which turns into a passout session, I meet up with Mike, Julian and Sonya and get tricked into taking half shots of apple vodka. I think all is well and good until it's pointed out to me that it was actually apple rum. Not the same thing. By the time we get to City Tavern I'm well on my way to ridiculous behavior.

I step outside to smoke at this point and go for a walk. I've decided that the best course of action for me is to go to an atm, catch a cab and pass out at 518. I'm walking to the atm when I hear, "you need a cab?" Um...do you take card? He does, and I jump in. The cab ride sobers me a little, and I'm wondering why the hell I just left everyone at the bar to get in a cab by myself at 12, with no real place to go. We get to Van Ness and Pacific, and I say, "I have an odd request."

He looks in the back at me like I've just asked him for a backrub. "what do you want?"

"Well, I'm wondering if you might take me back to where you picked me up."

"You want to go back to where I got you?"

"Yea, I'm not sure why, but I want to go back."

He looks at me like I've fallen out of a tree, but he obliges and drops me back off there. My sobriety does not improve. At this point, Mike asks me to help out Julian by talking with him to these girls. I walk over, and this girl is both unattractive and completely trashed, falling around. I'm there two seconds and she starts flirting with me. I really just want her to take a nap on the bar. I don't want to be rude, but I don't want her to think in any way that I'm interested. I go back to Mike and ask him, "If we were walking on a bridge, would you throw me in front of a truck?"

Mike's confused. "No. Why?"

"then why would you do it in a bar?"

The night ends shortly after this, as I get in a cab and end up in the Panhandle. Not panhandling. Today, it's on to T's birthday in the Mission. Atta way!

Restaurant Review: First Crush

Went to First Crush last night, a place that specializes in California wines and cuisine.

The atmosphere of the restaurant was lovely...very quiet, intimate and dimly lit. The service was very nice, attentive, and allowed ample time for good conversation, without feeling ignored or bothered.

Had a cheese platter that was excellent...cheddar, bleu, sheeps and one other served with crackers, grapes and thin apple slices.

For my entree, had the ribeye and french fries. The fries were good, but the ribeye was poorly cooked (I said medium rare, it came out more medium well).

I would recommend this place as great for drinks, appetizers, the atmosphere and a quiet date, but there's better food around if you're looking for a good steak.

Books, Books and Books

I just discovered (thanks Emily!) a fantastic new site devoted to sharing books and reviews. You can find the link in my links section to the right there. I encourage you to join and share the lifeblood of true culture...books!

www.goodreads.com

Welcome Back, Long Islands!

That's right. Saturday night marked the triumphant return of the Long Island Iced Tea to my diet. For many a moon, the Long Island was my staple drink. Three in one night would set me up quite well for some mayhem. But then, upon going to City Tavern where one of the bartenders ridiculed me for ordering them, and my so called friends, if they can so be called, berated me for my drink of choice (like they're the ones that have to drink it!), I switched to the now usual Red Bull vodka.

Well, out on Saturday night for Christina's birthday at Andalu, and starting without any sort of pre-party, and not surrounded by anyone who thought it worthwhile to ridicule my drink choice, I went straight for the Island of Long. And boy, did it work.

The night started, as I just said, at Andalu where we were celebrating Christina's 22nd birthday. If you don't know who she is or what she looks like, see the charming picture of her in the "Happy Birthday Christina!" post. Andalu is a place I haven't been before, and still couldn't tell you what the food is like because I pulled my occasional drinking through dinner routine. But it's a tapas place with a cool vibe. The crew for the evening was T, Aliza, Wendy, Brigid, Molly and myself. Zena was supposed to come, but apparently blacked out before 8pm.

After that, we stopped at Casanova. But it was empty. We left immediately.

On to the Elbo room at that point. A red bull vodka there is the equivalent of a pint of beer in size. It nearly decapitates me. I step outside. Air is good. These are literally the clips of moments I remember. We get in a cab (which feels a bit rushed) and end up at Fluid. I find out later that this is the point where we lost T. Surprisingly, Mike and Julian are already in line with Sonya. They tell us good luck, because they've been told that they're going to be the last people in line let in.

At this point, Christina goes to the bouncer with the entirety of our group, as I hang back in line. She explains to them that it's her birthday, he cards us and lets us in (I've snuck back up to the front at this point).

First time in Fluid. Pretty cool looking bar inside, good energy in the music, and that's about it. Well, that's about what I can tell you. I'd say something about the crowd, but I've decided for the moment to pass on social commentary. I don't know why. I guess I don't have much good to say, other than surprisingly running into a guy that I knew from Green Cross and the excellent company and energy of the group.

Thankfully, I had Sunday off, relaxed and threw a frisbee around, had an excellent omelet for breakfast and watched basketball.

Can you smell the grass of the ballpark yet?

Yea, USC Lost. So What?

For those that know me well, they can tell you that I invest quite a bit of emotion and passion into the sports teams that I cheer for. This includes, but is not limited to: USC, Notre Dame, 49ers, Giants. Last night, the improbably run of USC came to an end against North Carolina. Truthfully, I was surprised that they made it that far...I thought Texas was sure to take them out.

Now, normally, this would send me into a funk for three days, with the only salvation in sight being the possible loss by UCLA to Kansas. But I couldn't get the smile off my face.....

The frosh/soph track team I coach won the Trojan Relay Invitational (no relation to USC). Not just won a few races, but won the entire Frosh/Soph Girls division. I can't ever remember being less upset about a team loss, and realized it was because all this time, I've been a spectator and a fan of other teams...this frosh/soph team is actually my team. Not a team I cheer for because of some city or school affiliation, but a team I'm helping to build.

Let me tell you how we did it. It was a mixture of depth, speed, and a few surprise performances.

My 4x1 mile team came through with a third place finish, with all four running under 6:30. My 4x800 team came in with all four running under 2:53 to win the race. Our hurdler completed an entire race three stepping for the first time. The jumpers and throwers stepped in with some crucial points in their events, and then, in one of the more excellent moments of the night, a Devil Takes the Hindmost Mile, my milers took 2nd and 3rd in the race.

It was done with over 15 PRs, and several more Season records. It was done with smiles, amazing performances, and energy.

Now who could care about 10 guys I've never met losing to North Carolina after a night like that?

That's euphoria.

Happy Birthday Christina!

Yes, ladies and gentlemen...the other half of the duo we know as Brigid and Christina (or is it Christina and Brigid?) celebrates her 22nd birthday today. She is no longer just lucky to be 21 when she gets stopped for looking like she's 17. She can no longer claim that she's a high schooler (not that she would want to), and she joins the ranks of people everywhere who are still 4 years from being able to drive a rental car.

You can see her here, in one of her happier moments as a 21 year old. May the coming year bring the lady some know as X the best of everything, or the worst, depending on what she's feeling like at the moment. Cheers to you!

Thoughts on Last Night's Madness

Anyone watch that Tennessee game last night? How do you blow a 20 point lead? How do you fail to hit your free throws, and then make the unforgivable mistake of not calling a time out when you get a rebound with 5 seconds left, down by 1? Bruce Pearl needs to be soaking his head in a tub of lye right now to get all that crap out of the middle of it.

UCLA won ugly. A Bruin friend of mine is trying to argue that they had the most dominating win yesterday. They certainly had the nicest point differential, but that hardly means anything when that differential is only 8 or 9, against a Pittsburgh team that couldn't hang onto the ball to save their life. When your starting point guard goes something like 3-11 and gets all his points at the free throw line, you could be heading for some serious trouble. Like Kansas.

Kansas had to face an experienced and determined team in S. Ill. The problem is, the longer that game goes on as close as it was, the less pressure S. Ill has and the more Kansas has. Yet they faced that, held on and won.

Memphis over Texas A&M? Who cares? No matter who the winner was, they only had a shot when OSU didn't come back from 20 down with Oden on the bench for most of the game to win. Neither team had a chance, and neither team has one now. Unless of course OSU wasted all of its energy and motivation trying to erase Tennessee's monster lead.

Tonight, I don't hold out much hope for my Trojans, but hey, this is Madness, right? Good luck to Butler tonight, they'll need it to not get waxed by Florida. 3/4 for me are still intact (Florida, Kansas, Georgetown), with my championship game still intact as well (Florida v. GT, Florida wins)...

Fight on Trojans.

Spring is Here. Baseball Rejoices

That's right people...as you can see from the Places I'll Be links...baseball season is upon us, my season tickets are in full force, and Opening Day is less than 2 weeks away. In preparation for this joyous event, enjoy a video of Bonds hitting a home run last season (career #723 to be exact), and a picture of the beautiful ballpark.

Should you want to go to games during the season, let me know!

An Obama ad bitten from a Futurama ad bitten from an Apple ad

The Hilary 1984 ad has been getting craaaazy press. I saw it and immediately recognized it from a Futurama episode called "Futurestock." I didn't know that they had taken it from an Apple ad actually aired in 1984. Here are all 3 in one convenient place for your convenience. Cheers.

Man Dances in Street. World Celebrates.

In preparation for the creation of my "Dancing in the Street" video soon to be posted on YouTube, I thought I'd brighten the day with some footage from Pier 39 I got a few weeks ago. This breakdancing crew totally tore it up. Here's one of them. You can see all the videos I got from that day on my YouTube site (link to the right).

St. Patrick's Day

When you’re not sure if you’re coming or going, how can you be either? This, my friends, is my thought of the day for you. I’m actually just stalling until I can remember what I did Friday night. Ah, yes…started at Morty and JK’s place to play some Wii…this video game system seems to be popping up everywhere lately…I don’t know that it’ll be too long before I have to get one of my own.

From there, we stopped at City Tavern for the first time in weeks, but our barman Chris wasn’t there, so it didn’t seem the same. I watch in horror as Julian, Mike and Morty have Patron shots. As in two each. I want to throw up just watching Mike trying not to throw up on the floor of the bar. From City, I hopped over to the Sunset where I met up with Charles, Bob, Ferrer, Derek and Jordan. At this point, seeing straight is not an option, they’re closing the bar and I pass out at Damie’s place so I can wake up at 8 the next morning to go to Kezar Stadium for a track meet.

Where my 2 miler PRs by 55 seconds. And my miler PRs by 9 seconds. It’s a good day out at the track when our Distance Medley squad takes second to Carlmont.

I run home, shower, and this all feels like the same day and routine of Friday night, except I head up to Mike and Julian’s place where I’m introduced to the drinking version of Liar’s Dice. After a few games, I manage to convince them to break out the Beirut, where Mike and I get beaten pretty badly. Then Sean and I get beaten. Then we leave.

This time, Chris is at City Tavern and we get some drinks. Julian mentions Merlin’s, to which I puke. The place is crowded as hell for St. Patrick’s Day, and I see an awesome shirt that reads “Fight me, I’m Scottish.” After chugging my red bull vodka in an attempt to get out of there, I smoke a joint on the sidewalk and start looking for a cab, which at that time of night, on St. Pat’s day in the Marina is not a very good endeavor. I finally spot one and watch as a girl runs across the street and jumps in. I’m feeling friendly, so I ask her if she’s going my way.

“Where’s that?”

“Where are you going?”

She tells me, and I tell her that it’s close enough to on my way, and there’s few enough cabs, that I’ll take my chances and split the cab with her. Instead, she pays the entire fare to her place, tips the cabbie and has him restart the meter. I don’t know if this helped me or not, mainly because I don’t know where she was in relation to where I was going.

Cabbie takes me to 8th and Folsom for the Cat Club, and it’s definitely one of the better nights I’ve been there. In fact, hilarity ensues on multiple levels. Carolina’s working the door and is shocked to see me out, though Aliza explains to her that this isn’t really a new thing. Joanna, Aliza, T, Zena and Jackie are all out en masse. As I walk towards Zena, she stares at me like I just fell out of the sky before going, “Oh my gosh, is that you!?” Apparently, taken out of context, I can look like a very different fellow and she didn’t recognize me.

I step to the bar and ask if they take card. They do, but their machine is broken. He points me towards their ATM machine, which is also out of order. I’m 2 dollars short of a red bull vodka and the guy next to me at the bar gives me the two. “I’ve been there” he tells me. I tell him I have often relied on the kindness of strangers. This isn’t really true at all, but it feels to me like it fits the situation and I enjoy the way it sounds…I heard someone say it once…think it was Blanche in Streetcar.

I’m trying to chat with Zena about a variety of topics, but keep getting interrupted by every girl in the bar coming up to her with mention of her being single. I feel like I’ve mistakenly sat down next to a movie star and have to wait while she signs glossy 8x10s of herself with the quote, “Single again, Love Z”

Joanna’s faded and tells me that we should consider making out later in the evening. Her exact words are, “why don’t I drink this, and you drink that, and we’ll see what happens.” This leaves me, literally, speechless. I have no idea what to say to that. I think I come back with, “that’s very flattering!”

Jackie gets me out on the dance floor, which is trouble no matter how you spell it. And let me tell you…that girl can cut rugs! In fact, for a moment, I feel like I’ve walked into a funhouse and am watching myself dance in the mirror, but all my clothes are different. And I’m wearing glasses. And I’m a girl. It’s confusing, then I realize that we just dance very similarly. Being this part of the night though, it takes me a good 3 minutes to piece this all together.

All of this goes on as Aliza is talking to the Jolly Green Giant. Now, this nickname used to be reserved for Courtney Greene from middle school, but this girl Jen gets it now. I walk up to the bar and see Jen. I’m about eye level with her neck. Then I look closer and realize that she’s leaning against the bar. She’s not even standing up straight! This girl HAS to be at least 6’2”…I feel generally short as it is, and this girl straight makes me feel like a dwarf.

Aliza asks my second opinion, and I tell her if she’s got the chance, she better take her home. It’s close to closing time, and we step outside, where I see my old friend Patrick. For those of you that don’t know, Patrick is the owner of the building that Cat Club is in, and I had the pleasure of meeting him several weeks ago (see previous blog, “ Cell Phone Stupidity”). I chat it up with him…not sure if he remembers where he knows me from, but he certainly smiles and pretends that he does, which in and of itself works for me.

Aliza and Jen have disappeared. I somehow (I think it’s with T), make it back to their place. But not before buying kit kat bars at their 7-11. I swear, nothing is cooler than having a 7-11 two doors down from you. I think I’m going to petition the church across the street from my apartment to give up some of their property for a 7-11 and the overall betterment of society.

I wake up this morning on their family room floor, nicely bundled in a blanket and sleeping bag, not too terribly hung over. Somewhere in the background, I can hear Aliza walking Jen to the door.

A List of Movies, by month.

Friday, March 16, 2007

a List of Movies, by month. Current mood: cinephilic Since November, I've been keeping track of the movies I watch. I'll post at the end of each month with the current list. For now, here's since the beginning. November (8): 6: Borat 14: Walk the Line 15: Brick, The Sea Inside 20: Casino Royale, Favela Rising 23: Home for the Holidays 26: Down to the Bone December (11): 1: Happy Feet 5: District B-13 6: Color of Money 9: Apocalypto, Edward Scissorhands 13: The Proposition 15: Hard Candy 28: Clerks 30: Clerks 2, Baraka, Silence of the Lambs January (11): 5: Manito 8: Thank You For Smoking 9: Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade 13: The Conversation 21: Flight Plan 22: Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark 24: Pusher 27: Talladega Nights, Children of Men 30: Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, All About My Mother February (7): 3: Accepted 6: Hustle and Flow 15: Slam 19: Ferris Bueller's Day Off 26: End of Suburbia 27: Reno 911: the Movie 28: Munich

Trippin' Politicians (old)

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Trippin Politicians (old) Current mood: okay September 23, 2005....little weird reprinting it here two years later to see that most of it is still much too relevant. Politicians trippin while dippin their feet in baths, Made of the oil and blood spilled and soaked up in rags In Iraq, while the homeless in our country moan and scream, It mocks the freedom and idea that makes the American dream, its obscene, To watch relief in days make its way around the world for tsunami relief as New Orleans swirls with no peace. And for what, to fuel our ever growing constant patriotism, while the senate's got our vision locked up in a prism? You can't listen or open up your ears to the fears they preach, Democracy in the Middle East is always just out of reach, We're no closer to world peace then when we killed Hitler's beast Watching silently from afar as the entire army feasts close your eyes humming happily while driving gas guzzling cars And don't forget the muzzles on al qaeda's guns are all ours, Supplied years ago by Reagan who didn't see in Osama a star It's not far From being ended, listen and you can sense it And now, well now it might just be too late, We could maybe walk and chew gum for a while but now we're caught spinning plates It just has to bring a smile as we write our own fate in the blank slate of the sands abroad Because we all know the Bible, but no one's read the Koran And we trod Overseas to bring our version of freedom, Bring to their knees insurgencies that we nurtured and feeded, make them bow to democracy recite the Pledge of Allegiance Maybe when we're done with Iraqi's we'll go take out the Koreans But liberty and justice for all is a hoax, Spewed by the common denominator of republican folks, Getting confused that the church and state are supposed to be different, How long before the whole Muslim faith gets on their hit list? Freedom for all is more like just freedom for some, How can we bring it to foreign countries when our own gays can't have none? Either homosexuality's a choice, or it's something innate, Either way there's supposed to be separation between church and state. Then all of a sudden the separation quickly blurs, as gays get banned from marriage, military and constantly slurred Then law makers feel justified bringing the Bible to the table And they limit the scope of others' freedom because God's in their stable. So now the founding fathers' first idea is gone, we still think that salvation came with the topple of Saddam So long, to the government talking out of both sides of their mouth, Breaking covenants A big joke while the whole damn economy goes down, their pay never goes south, in fact they vote yearly for a raise, to reflect the rising cost of living for which the taxpayer pays Senators making 150,000 a year Does it make sense? Or is anyone else feeling the fear of skyrocketing debt? when CNN brings top stories, and surely they will, when will the people decide enough blood has been spilled? My guess is maybe in a few short years, When threat levels, dead bodies and death induced tears People finally stand up and end those bastards careers. And for now, well it might just be too late, Cause there's only so long that Mr. Bush can spin plates.

The First Post

So here it is. After looking at the 518 blogspot while simultaneously laughing and crying, I decided to create my own, rival blog. I laughed because it's hilarious and a fantastic idea. I cry because I can't handle 10 hours of YouTube video hand selected by Julian.

As I already blogged on myspace, I'll be re-posting them here for the amusement and archival purposes of all. This will ensure maximum coverage as well as creating for me a back-up in case myspace gets destroyed or something like that.

A Busted Camera and Other Nonsense

Monday, March 05, 2007

A Busted Camera and Other Nonsense (Fri & Sat) Current mood: cheerful The relocation of my pre-partying this weekend led to an interesting set of evenings. Friday night, it all started at Vincent Chang's place…an apartment on the 37th floor of a downtown apartment building. These views were incredible, and basically felt like you were penthouse status. It was some usual Crystal cats…Charles, Alan, Vincent, Phil, Matt Goldstein, Anjali, Mona…we partied and I got my first chance to play Wii…trying Tennis, Baseball and Bowling. Pretty damn fun stuff out there for anyone that hasn't tried it! Let me just say that it's hard for me to get in the drinking mood without an hour or two of pre-drinking or Beirut. We left from there and I jumped over to meet up with T and Aliza in the Castro. I had trouble getting a cab, which meant another marathon walk from 3rd and Market to about 10th. I jumped a cab the rest of the way, and then got severely confused by the text messages saying, "come to the bar." I'm like, there's thirty bars around here! "No, the bar!" Finally, I realize she means The Bar, and I walk into a trendy gay bar with a smattering of women…mostly Aliza and her friends. The place is cool enough, but T, Zena and some others are heading over to meet up with Christina. As of 6pm on Friday, she was not very happy with me at all, so going there didn't seem like the best idea. Aliza and I hang around, kill another drink and then head out to the corner. I bring out a joint, but I'm not ready for it. The speed with which I finished my last red bull vodka combines with the pot and I feel like I want to unload everything in my stomach out onto the street. Meanwhile, as I fight nausea, Aliza is touting the benefits of going to the Marina and meeting up with the rest of them. I tell her that she's only making me want to throw up more with those kinds of ideas. I settle my stomach and put what's left of my game face back on. I tell Aliza to lead us to a bar, to which she responds, in her own neighborhood, that she doesn't know any good places. She tries to take me into this place called "Boy Bar," but I explain very nicely to her that as a straight guy and a lesbian, we should probably be exploring our options in a bar with more actual women of either orientation. We stagger down Market and I suggest the Mint. She doesn't want to do that. I suggest another bar, that one sucks. Then she tells me, "dude, no good bars are going to be open." "Aliza! It's Friday night at 12:15. If we can't find another bar to get a drink in, you're fucking fired!" She takes me to Lucky 13, which is basically a biker/punk/goth type crowd on Market. It's cool enough and we have another drink before Aliza starts looking sloppy enough to take home. We walk back to her place, relax on her couch and smoke another joint. She's convinced that there's three of us in the room, asking me about Renee, their roommate. I explain to her that Renee is most likely in bed and that there's only the two of us in the room. She asks who the third person is before realizing that this is just her seeing double of me. She excuses herself and I get to listen as she throws up in the bathroom. She then politely tells me that she's heading to bed. I walk out of her house and immediately think that buying a 22 of Mickey's for my cab ride is a fantastic idea. The cab driver looks at me sideways, but I keep the can down so he can't say anything. By the time I show up at Swig, the momentum that I lost listening to Aliza vomit has been regained through the power of Mickey's. Swig is just how I remembered it, and it's already late. I get one glass of water in there by the time last call hits, and I jump back in a cab to go home. This is where my night turns to shit. I get out of the cab at the Caltrain station and think that hell, this is the perfect time for some dancing in the street videos. I take two good ones. I'm on my third, and as I head back to the camera, I make the exuberant mistake of scooping, rather than picking it up off the ground, and watch in horrified slow motion as it somersaults, bounces off the palm of my hand, and lands lens down on the sidewalk. I almost get mad, then realize I could have prevented it. I almost cry, then realize that it's a spilled camera, so no use in that. I look at it very disappointedly, like somehow shame on you camera, get in my car and drive home. Saturday night I head up to the city with the idea of hanging out with Brigid for her birthday. I mean, c'mon people, this is Brigid we're talking about here! I start in the Sunset at a place called Ireland 32 with Damie. They're there to hear a friend of theirs play drums for the band on their cd release party. We're there for a bit when Aliza and her crew of basketball coaches make it over from 6th and Clement to meet me. Solid crew, those people. They want pizza, they get pizza. At this point, it's almost midnight (yea, I got started real real late Saturday, mostly, I think, from being exhausted from the ultimate frisbee tournament I played that day, which I then followed up with 3 taco supremes, 2 gorditas and a chalupa from Taco Bell). You can call me a chalupa! Aliza, again, is agitating to go to the Marina, which is odd because she wanted to go there Friday night, and here she is again going after it. The difference is that tonight, we have a crew to meet there…Cella, maybe Julian and some others for Nicky Gillette's birthday party. We walk into Mauna Loa, and the excitement that was moving Aliza towards the marina fades when she enters and sees what she will only refer to as "straight white America." She begins to get agitated. I explain to her that A) she had wanted to go to the marina, what did she expect? B) we're only there to meet some people, and C) I happen to be straight and white, so she should stop trying to stereotype it all. All of a sudden, I'm seeing shades of Aliza wanting to fight. Talking loudly about the people she doesn't like in the bar, getting aggressive when someone bumps into her, and yelling at some poor girl playing the arcade basketball machine…the girl misses a few shots and Aliza "Michael Jordan" Parpia yells out, "What the hell are you doing?!" I take her away from the game and back towards the bar. Mike and Julian never show up. I don't know what their story is. We head outside, and Joanna, our companion on this little adventure into straight white America, is confused as to why I'm not taking a cab with them. I explain the triangle that is the city to her, and how her destination and mine are on different ends of that. She gets it, hops in the cab with Aliza, and they're gone. I stagger up to Bar None where I had seen JK walking to while we were outside Mauna Loa. We hang out for a bit, and then he heads home, I head up the street, walk around the corner, sit down and smoke until the infamous Maurod the Cabbie shows up to drive me back to Damie's, where much to Derek's dismay, I smoke him out at 3:30 am before passing out. Another successful night in the city. Stay tuned.