...Awesome

The three dots, ellipses...seems to have become a one-size-fits-all punctuation in people's email and in online writing in general. Similarly, the word "awesome" seems to be the default adjective now for expressing approval. I could very smugly illustrate why these are worisome trends by typing out a bunch of fancy sentences, chock-full of semicolons and ten-sylable Latin words that mean almost the same thing as "awesome". They would of course be written with the aid of www.thesaurus.com--or else I would just do a search for Henry James and steal some of his writing. The example sentences would be witty--or unfunny--in their flippant representations of profound subject matter or, conversely, their vibrantly detailed telling of the time I opened a beer with my teeth. And though you would think to agree with the overall message of the blog, its annoying tone would get you angry.

Fantasy Camp

Over the next hill I can almost make out helicopters darting through the floodlights over Fantasy Camp. La Cucaracha--but I know it’s not that--reaches me as a seismic rumbling, up from the earth, through my saddle, mixing with the warm Scotch in my chest.

It’s after six when I reach the front gates--too late for parasailing. La Cucaracha, I discover, is actually a digitized orchestral peice which, aside from being empirically beautiful, has magically cleared the desert out of my sinuses. The guard, dressed in a flannel cap and nightgown, welcomes me in a voice earily similar to that of my second grade teacher, Mrs. Lawrence: "Welcome to Fantasy Camp, Mr. Honeydew. This is a beautiful animal." She leads my horse away to the main house (I spy the outline of her flak jacket as she goes) while interns gather up my garment bags and lap top computer. I am permitted to drool a moment over the world famous baseball diamond before two sliding glass doors nearly take my head off.

I am here now, and I can’t beleive it. Everyone is wearing war paint, just like in the brochure. I cry when I get in the elevator.

Dontcha Think?

I've never been so great at detecting irony. In fact, I was on board with Alanis Morrisette right up until some of my English major friends alerted me to her imprecise usage. (I just thought it was a catchy tune.)

It's a real nit-picky term, "irony". For something to qualify as ironic, it needs to be more than just coincidental. At least two factors need to line-up in such a way that...oh well.

I'm pretty sure we all witnessed one such event last night at the Golden Globes.

Not two minutes into Peter Morgan's acceptance speech, in which the British screenwriter spoke eloquently about the function of social protest (alluding to the Iraq war) he was made to "wrap it up" with plenty of time left. Now I'm pretty sure that a speech about social protest being cut short on Martin Luther King Day does, in fact, qualify as irony.

An excerpt from a poem by David Berman and my subsequent attempt to justify unlawfully reprinting copyrighted material.

The New Idea

From a third floor window I spray a sad look
down into the courtyard of the office park
filled with cold pebbles and benches

There are little donuts for sale in the breakroom
vending machine called gems or donnettes

or, gemettes, I can't remember,
and I'd rather not retrace the string of decisions

that have left me stupefied before
an inspirational poster that claims
"The First Word in Can't is Can."


Due to it's dense history of uncomfortable moments,
our elevator is haunted with poorly conceived smiles
and sinking hearts, so I take the stairs

to the boardroom and pass a mailroom clerk
with reggae leaking out his walkman

and a crumpled secretary who,
as the office rumor goes,

keeps a thurmos on her desk filled
with the ashes of her dead bulldog.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is a good place to stop.

Why this was an ok thing to do...or not-

Well, for one, this poem concerns an office worker. Large numbers of people who make and read blogs are folks who work in offices--we can relate. One major reason that it was wrong to post this chunk of David Berman's poem on my blog is that it's only a couple of years old. I would really have no problem putting up something by T.S. Elliot or some other dead guy/gal. No, this bit is from a poetry book that is out right now called Actual Air.

I can honestly say though that typing this poem out reminded me a lot of drawing the Guns-N-Roses logo on my bookbag in seventh grade. Guns-N-Roses was something I was awed by and I felt proud to have a visceral appreciation for.

So, shame on me for treating someone's serious work like a bit of youtube video but...whatever. I think it looks cool.

Well now I REALLY want a turtle

Specifically, the turtle inthis video. He's a real spark plug. I love a pet that is both mischievous and dim-witted. It's fucking adorable.

Answer me this:

Assuming this is a daily routine, does the dog always know to hide out in the tool shed?

How long do you think the turtle keeps looking after the camera stops?

Your mission, should you choose to accept it...

Can it be that Ethan Hunt, protagonist of the Mission Impossible series, is a freelancer? With all of the technical training and dire consequences involved in international spying, I just assumed he was on salary. Time and again the fate of the free world is in the hands of someone under no contractual obligation to even show up? It makes no sense. James Bond seems to have a similar dynamic with his higher-up, Q, who treats Bond with air of deference that is borderline innapropriate: "Double-0-Seven, you must hurry", "we're counting on you Double-0-Seven". Can you imagine Q ever getting stern with James Bond?

Do I need to remind you what Double-0 means? It means there are a HUNDRED other idiots in this organization who can do your job. So get up NOW, wash the cigarettes and stale hooker perfume out of that filthy table cloth you call a tuxedo and be here in twenty minutes! And don't tell me you gambled away your cab fare again 'cause I didn't beleive you the first time!

Seriously though, the phrase "should you choose to accept it" is nothing more than locker room psychology. Whereas Q appeals to Bond's massive ego, Ethan Hunt (should I just say Tom Cruise? Nobody knows the character name) is routinely confronted with a challenge to his manhood--as if Tom hasn't suffered enough in the tabloids. The guys who approach Hunt with new jobs are a far cry from dodering old Q. They are always these hard chargers, fresh out of spy school, looking to steal his gig! Comming from Billy Crudup, "should you choose to accept it" doesn't sound like protocol, it sounds like a dare.

But surely one of these super spys takes advantage of the fact that they're the only ones who can work a harness and jump out of the way of explosions without messing up their hair. Double-0-Five probably lives for sticking it in Q's face from time to time, "YES, I realize that The Mona Lisa is priceless but I asked off for the second week in June for a reason!".

Tom Waits Interviews

I've been working away on the Road to Peace portion of my recently publicized, up-comming post about Tom Waits. Unfortunately, just when I think I know what the hell I'm talking about, it keeps getting away from me . There are too many blind alleys, and it's gotten so bad that I've begun referencing Marshall Mcluhan.

WOODY ALLEN: You don't know anything about Marshall McLuhan's work.

ME: You're so right, Woody.(sigh)

But I haven't given up. So, in the meantime, I'll do the easy part:

Tom Waits has been going on Letterman for years. Dave knows he's one of the best songwriters on the planet and I'm sure he is admiring of him as an artist. But a big part of Tom Waits' art is his humor. He's the rare hybrid of a high-brow artist who is also a total ham. Dave knows this and is more than happy to play the straight man giggling at the funny old hobo telling tall tales.

When the subject of children came up in one of their interviews Waits explained how his kids learned "never to ask Dad to help you with your homework." (History homework in particular.)

LETTERMAN: Why's that Tom?

TOM: Hmmm...I think I made up a war once.

Can't you just picture Tom Waits telling his 8th grade son about the ferocious battle of 860 b.c., when the mighty Byzantian Huns rode atop fire breathing wolf-hounds ...etc.?

Like any good East Coat Liberal, I have an unhealthy, man-crush on John Stewart and everything associated with The Daily Show. So, it's with reluctance that I say he squandered his short time with Tom Waits by being too much of a fan. He did it with Neil Young too, but that time it was ok because Neil, while genial and articulate, isn't all that funny. Whatever.

I'm sure everyone over at the Daily Show is reading this and scrambling to rework the format of the show. Don't worry about it guys. I'll be happy to do some freelance consulting after the holidays. I've just been swamped lately.


This guy is funny?

Three things I may, or may not post, about this week

A HELICOPTER IN EVERY GARAGE- The inventor of the helicopter envisioned little one-person helicopters for every person in America.
*Can you imagine the evening news: "15 helicopter pile-up on I-95"? Totally Awesome!!

DUUUDE...-Think hard, did you ever get lost in a really cool screen saver pattern back when they first came out?
*Cinematic master, Stanley Kubric predicts the magic of the PC screen saver 2o yrs. early in his classic "2001".

THE ROAD TO PEACE- A track on the new Tom Waits album is a vivid political ballad about the conflict in the Middle East. It's a jaw dropper. Like Dylan and John Lennon before, Tom Waits hijacks the language of newspapers in lyrics like "The killing has intensified/ Along the road to peace..."
*Tom Waits television interviews--Why John Stewart could learn from Letterman.




All this (maybe) and so much more to come this week at Daydream Vaccination!

Who is poisoning Russian dissidents?

This story will probably become really compelling in a few days when it starts to make a little more sense. But right now it's just kind of annoying.

Why have "traces of the man-made isotope turned up in at least a dozen spots across this capital city and in several aircraft."

It sounds like the guy doing the poisoning took a stroll around London for a few days with the radioactive crap falling out of his pockets like loose change.

And whatever happened to Arsenic? Or just throwing someone off of a bridge?

Get Sloganized!

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Have you poured millions into creating your dream product line, but just can't stand the thought of paying a professional to help market it properly?

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It's Easy. Just punch in the name of the product you wish to Sloganize...

Tony Danza

...and in just moments, this little marketing gem appears:

Enjoy Tony Danza.


Can sloganizer.net help me promote my blog?

Daydream Vaccination-

Daydream Vaccination, the freshmaker.

Daydream Vaccination innovate your world.

Wow. Thanks sloganizer.net!


What major accounts are the folks at sloganizer.net working on these days?

Toyota-

Toyota takes good care of you.


Fuckin-A! Show me more! I can't get enough of sloganizer.net!!

Shame-

Nobody doesn't like Shame.

That's a little weird


A Pail Full of Kittens

There's lots of fun in A Pail Full of Kittens.

Aaaaww. It's effective cause it's true.


Hiroshima

Think Hiroshima.

??????


Love Actually

Love Actually kicks ass.

A little confusing, but...ok.


Crystal Meth

You know when it's Crystal Meth.

You're tellin' me.


Slave Labor

Slave Labor makes me hot.

Now that's just...


Hand Jobs

Jesus loves hand jobs.

I didn't make that one up. You're a sick bastard sloganizer.net!!

I Could Choke Someone

I think I'd like to write a one-act play about a customer service call to a crooked credit card company (redundant, I know). In it, the customer service representative will reluctantly sympathize, on a personal and moral level, with the card holder on the other end of the phone but, out of fear of loosing his/her job, will be unwilling to follow his/her conscience and break protocol.

Frontline did a show about the history of credit cards last night and, like all good editions of Frontline, it made me want to choke somebody and overthrow the government. My play, entitled "This Call May be Monitored", will span a month's worth of calls between the two main characters in which they will learn about eachother and, through the laughter and the tears, will develop a deep trauma bond.

The most disturbing part of the Credit Card Business is The Office of the Comptroller of the Currency (OCC), the federal agency that charters, regulates, and supervises all national and foreign banks in the U.S. These bloated, ineffective motherfuckers have jurisdiction that trumps all state level agencies, who have been super effective at dealing with credit card issues in the past. They use their power to basically let fruad of all sorts go unchecked. Two words--fucking lobbyies. They'll have a big role in my play.

The finale will be a hostage scene where the disillusioned customer service rep.--in India, of course--demands that the card company president, who lives in New York, get on the phone and deliver a personal apology to the beleagured customer. People love hostage scenes. I may stick some cheerleaders in there too--people love looking at cheerleaders. I had one credit card in college. I bought a VCR and a couple casses of Bud Light that, all told, ended up costing me two thousand dollars. This is not to say that I'm totally on the side of the customer. A large percent of people who go broke from credit card debt don't have a leg to stand on. They are adults who practice self deception until it's too late. But, on the other hand, there are MAJOR companies that simply want to cheat you out of money. Like this one company, Providian; oh my God...


My ideal cast would consist of comedic boy genius, Aziz Ansari, and this white guy on the couch.