10. We saw Hamlet 2. It was funny. I LOL'd. Like for srs.
9. We had to wait something like 20 minutes to get a seat the restaurant. It was raining, and people kept interrupting us because we were sitting on the same bench beneath which the restaurant patrons had stored their umbrellas. Regardless, I hardly minded, and in fact was temporarily surprised when we were finally seated.
8. We are both convinced we know each other from somewhere else. We kept trying to guess, and at one point the waiter asked me if I had figured it out yet. Apparently my voice carries when I'm, well, awake.
7. Glen Danzig.
6. She bought me a Hulk action figure for my birthday. It was waiting for me in the car when she picked me up, in a gift bag with a picture of a sock monkey that reads "Born to be WILD!" Some women just know the way to your heart. Hulk and monkeys? Double threat. Can't go wrong.
5. I totally snagged five bucks out of her wallet and she didn't even notice. It was awesome.
4. She has big, brown sexy eyes.
3. She has the sexiest voice in the universe. She could read the phone book to me and I would be in Heaven.
2. We totally made out. Like totally.
1. Afterwards, I just felt good. Just good. She dropped me off at about a quarter to midnight, I milled around my apartment, wrote a message to an old friend from Florida who found me on facebook, dug up old poems and essays I'd written when I was in Florida, and just generally felt good. It's nice. After living for so long without a social life, mainly because of working for four years with Batman's schedule, I am re-learning that when you reach out to the world, it tends to reach back. I feel good. I'm gonna go for a walk now.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Uncle Ick's Top 10 Favorite Films
(For any film nuts out there, I beg you to consider the title of this list literally. In other words, do not think I am claiming any special kind of knowledge in the art of film making or that I am saying these are the top 10 best films of all time. I'm not. I believe there definitely are films on this list that any film critic or student would have to agree are - at the very least - deserving of great praise, but I'm not going to pretend that I have enough knowledge of the art of crafting movies or have even seen enough movies to make a top 10 best films of all time list. These are the ones I like. 'Cuz I like 'em. So don't get all up in my grill and shit. Um. Yo.)
10. Big Trouble in Little China Directed by John Carpenter
There are very few stupid things I like because they're stupid. I'm not a fan of B movies, not even usually the more self-aware B movies like this one that know how silly they are and so lampoon themselves while reveling in their idiocy. But I've always liked Big Trouble ever since it came out when I was a kid. I think when I first saw it, I was somewhat aware of the self-parody aspect of it, but honestly I was more jazzed by all the guns and swords and karate and dudes shooting lighting bolts. Especially the lightning bolts. I don't know what it is. If there's a dude or a chick who shoots lightning bolts, I'm there.
9. Raising Arizona Directed by Joel Coen
Gather around, children, and I shall regale you with tales of wonder so fantastic you could hardly believe them. Tales of dragons and princesses. Of battles won and love lost. Of gods and goddesses, of demons and devils, and of all the unfortunate souls that lay in-between. But the most fantastic of all my tales, that will make you laugh to think it could possibly be true, is of a distant past when Nicolas Cage didn't think he was John Wayne, and so made movies worth a flying shit.
8. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon Directed by Ang Lee
The funny thing is, I hated this flick the first time I saw it. I never saw it in the theater. Instead, after hearing that its director would also be directing Hulk, I bought the DVD to see if I could get a clue about the worth of the guy who would be bringing my favorite green-skinned goliath to the screen.
I remember describing it to people as "a generic kung-fu flick an hour and a half longer than it needed to be." The truth? I don't like admitting this at all, but I think that what irked me about Crouching Tiger when I first saw it was the message of female empowerment, because at the time I had some serious anger issues regarding women. I'm not proud of it, but there it is.
My mind has since changed. In fact, when I used to play World of Warcraft, there was a zone of the game - a large, dense jungle - called Stranglethorn Vale that I always loved going to, and the only reason I liked going there (as any WoW player will tell you, STV is a BITCH of a zone to navigate, and there are some who avoid it completely) is that the music for that particular zone (each zone in WoW has different music) was very evocative of the lovely, sad musical score of Crouching Tiger.
7. Se7en Directed by David Fincher
There's a lot to like about Se7en, but I think what I love most is Morgan Freeman's character.
Freeman is a marvelous actor, but I've always been bothered by his presence. Or, more to the point, how his presence is used. There's this larger-than-life thing about most of his characters. His films almost always have at least one of what I call the "Morgan Moment" - the moment when everyone has to shut up because Morgan has something Important to say. Lean On Me is pretty much nothing but a neverending series of Morgan Moments. I mean, Christ, he even had those Morgan Moments in Robin Hood.
And the result is a whole bunch of characters that just don't seem very fallible, at least in regards to morality and wisdom. But that isn't the case in Se7en. His character is like a Raymond Chandler or Dashiel Hammett noir detective whose been cursed to stay in the world too long. He is utterly depressed and cynical, only able to endure his existence by filling his life with monotonous rituals. The scene right after Brad Pitt's character schools him in the bar - when he says, in response to Freeman's cynical speeches about humanity's darkness, something along the lines of "You say you're leaving because of all these things, but really I think you say all these things because you're leaving" - when Freeman returns to his apartment and spins a switchblade into a dartboard over and over, is one the most quietly dark and disturbing moments of any of Freeman's characters. With the possible exception of his character in Unforgiven, he's never been more fallible or more human.
6. The Silence of the Lambs Directed by Jonathan Demme
It's unfortunate that Hollywood felt the need to mar the memory of this great film with its Lucas-like compulsion to spit out sequels and prequels that could never hope to be as good as the original.
Jodie Foster is wonderful in this film, there's no denying it, just like there's no denying Hopkins is the best reason to watch it. The Lecter of Lambs is one of the greatest villains on film. I don't think I need to say anymore. You all know it.
5. The Dark Knight Directed by Christopher Nolan
I don't think I can write anything that I didn't already write here. This is the best super-hero film. I doubt that will change any time soon.
4. This is Spinal Tap Directed by Rob Reiner
As a teenager I hung out with a lot of musicians. Spinal Tap is probably the best thing they introduced me to. It just never gets, no matter how many times I watch it, not funny. I'll always laugh at Christopher Guest's claims about his amps' superior worth and I'll always laugh at Billy Crystal's cameo when he angrily tells his fellow mime-waiter "Mime is Money!" I'll always laugh when Guest, Michael McKean, and Harry Shearer try and pathetically fail at an impromptu, acapella version of "Heartbreak Hotel" at Elvis Presley's grave, or when Rob Reiner reads the band the infamous two-word review.
3. The Lord of the Rings Directed by Peter Jackson
(for the purposes of this list, I'm counting all three films as one, and I'd argue they are in a sense)
As a fan of the books since the third grade, I never thought anyone could pull it off. Never. Certainly not the guy who made his bones with a movie about space zombies invading New Zealand.
And I don't complain about the differences between the films and the books. In fact, I'm glad the differences were there. Why? Well, not only would a word-for-word adaptation of The Lord of the Rings be something like 80 hours long, but because of all the differences - especially because of all the things that are in the books that were left out of the films - if you've never read the books before but love the films, there are still a lot of treasures left in the books for you to explore.
I have a few gripes. I didn't like that they never even tried to make it a surprise that Boromir would fall to the power of the Ring. You pretty much know it's going to happen as soon as he shows up, particularly because of the casting. Sean Bean's built his career playing characters who are either traitors, heroes completely inadequate relative to the tasks at hand, or both. There were a few things here and there that Jackson handled with more blatant magic that I always pictured as being handled more subtly. For example when Gandalf breaks Saruman's debilitating hold on King Theoden, while reading the books I never pictured Theoden literally growing younger, but simply standing taller and straighter - seeming more youthful because of his mindset and physical presence. I didn't like that Denethor was treated as a 2-dimensional madman. I always saw him as a very tragic figure. They never even mention that it was one of the Palanthir that magically drove him insane. I mean, as much as Boromir was made to seem like a jerk at the Council of Elrond when he complained that the rest of the world was kept safe by the blood of his people, he wasn't wrong. Being the only thing standing between an idyllic fantasy world and its destruction at the hands of armies of demonic bastards would be enough to stress anyone out, even without a magical glowy thing helping drive you apeshit. And when Gandalf bonks Denethor upside the head because he was yelling for everyone to run, that was just stupid. Really. I mean, come on. Was that the day Will Farrell visited the set or something?
But at the end of the day, Jackson & co. made something astonishing, and differences from the source material be damned, they were true to the souls of the books, and that's what's important.
2. Dr. Strangelove (or How I Learned to Stop Worry and Love the Bomb) Directed by Stanley Kubrick
Best. Satire. Ever.
1. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind Directed by Michel Gondry
I don't usually seek out love stories, or like them. To be completely, unfortunately honest - I don't feel much like writing about this. Mainly for the same reason that I haven't been able to force myself to watch it since, well, if you read this blog regularly or know me in real life, then you know since when.
It's beautiful and funny and sweet. It will make you cry.
Oh, and after getting used to seeing Elijah Wood as a pure, cute little hobbit, seeing him play a sick little jerk who steals ladies underwear is awesome.
10. Big Trouble in Little China Directed by John Carpenter
There are very few stupid things I like because they're stupid. I'm not a fan of B movies, not even usually the more self-aware B movies like this one that know how silly they are and so lampoon themselves while reveling in their idiocy. But I've always liked Big Trouble ever since it came out when I was a kid. I think when I first saw it, I was somewhat aware of the self-parody aspect of it, but honestly I was more jazzed by all the guns and swords and karate and dudes shooting lighting bolts. Especially the lightning bolts. I don't know what it is. If there's a dude or a chick who shoots lightning bolts, I'm there.
9. Raising Arizona Directed by Joel Coen
Gather around, children, and I shall regale you with tales of wonder so fantastic you could hardly believe them. Tales of dragons and princesses. Of battles won and love lost. Of gods and goddesses, of demons and devils, and of all the unfortunate souls that lay in-between. But the most fantastic of all my tales, that will make you laugh to think it could possibly be true, is of a distant past when Nicolas Cage didn't think he was John Wayne, and so made movies worth a flying shit.
8. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon Directed by Ang Lee
The funny thing is, I hated this flick the first time I saw it. I never saw it in the theater. Instead, after hearing that its director would also be directing Hulk, I bought the DVD to see if I could get a clue about the worth of the guy who would be bringing my favorite green-skinned goliath to the screen.
I remember describing it to people as "a generic kung-fu flick an hour and a half longer than it needed to be." The truth? I don't like admitting this at all, but I think that what irked me about Crouching Tiger when I first saw it was the message of female empowerment, because at the time I had some serious anger issues regarding women. I'm not proud of it, but there it is.
My mind has since changed. In fact, when I used to play World of Warcraft, there was a zone of the game - a large, dense jungle - called Stranglethorn Vale that I always loved going to, and the only reason I liked going there (as any WoW player will tell you, STV is a BITCH of a zone to navigate, and there are some who avoid it completely) is that the music for that particular zone (each zone in WoW has different music) was very evocative of the lovely, sad musical score of Crouching Tiger.
7. Se7en Directed by David Fincher
There's a lot to like about Se7en, but I think what I love most is Morgan Freeman's character.
Freeman is a marvelous actor, but I've always been bothered by his presence. Or, more to the point, how his presence is used. There's this larger-than-life thing about most of his characters. His films almost always have at least one of what I call the "Morgan Moment" - the moment when everyone has to shut up because Morgan has something Important to say. Lean On Me is pretty much nothing but a neverending series of Morgan Moments. I mean, Christ, he even had those Morgan Moments in Robin Hood.
And the result is a whole bunch of characters that just don't seem very fallible, at least in regards to morality and wisdom. But that isn't the case in Se7en. His character is like a Raymond Chandler or Dashiel Hammett noir detective whose been cursed to stay in the world too long. He is utterly depressed and cynical, only able to endure his existence by filling his life with monotonous rituals. The scene right after Brad Pitt's character schools him in the bar - when he says, in response to Freeman's cynical speeches about humanity's darkness, something along the lines of "You say you're leaving because of all these things, but really I think you say all these things because you're leaving" - when Freeman returns to his apartment and spins a switchblade into a dartboard over and over, is one the most quietly dark and disturbing moments of any of Freeman's characters. With the possible exception of his character in Unforgiven, he's never been more fallible or more human.
6. The Silence of the Lambs Directed by Jonathan Demme
It's unfortunate that Hollywood felt the need to mar the memory of this great film with its Lucas-like compulsion to spit out sequels and prequels that could never hope to be as good as the original.
Jodie Foster is wonderful in this film, there's no denying it, just like there's no denying Hopkins is the best reason to watch it. The Lecter of Lambs is one of the greatest villains on film. I don't think I need to say anymore. You all know it.
5. The Dark Knight Directed by Christopher Nolan
I don't think I can write anything that I didn't already write here. This is the best super-hero film. I doubt that will change any time soon.
4. This is Spinal Tap Directed by Rob Reiner
As a teenager I hung out with a lot of musicians. Spinal Tap is probably the best thing they introduced me to. It just never gets, no matter how many times I watch it, not funny. I'll always laugh at Christopher Guest's claims about his amps' superior worth and I'll always laugh at Billy Crystal's cameo when he angrily tells his fellow mime-waiter "Mime is Money!" I'll always laugh when Guest, Michael McKean, and Harry Shearer try and pathetically fail at an impromptu, acapella version of "Heartbreak Hotel" at Elvis Presley's grave, or when Rob Reiner reads the band the infamous two-word review.
3. The Lord of the Rings Directed by Peter Jackson
(for the purposes of this list, I'm counting all three films as one, and I'd argue they are in a sense)
As a fan of the books since the third grade, I never thought anyone could pull it off. Never. Certainly not the guy who made his bones with a movie about space zombies invading New Zealand.
And I don't complain about the differences between the films and the books. In fact, I'm glad the differences were there. Why? Well, not only would a word-for-word adaptation of The Lord of the Rings be something like 80 hours long, but because of all the differences - especially because of all the things that are in the books that were left out of the films - if you've never read the books before but love the films, there are still a lot of treasures left in the books for you to explore.
I have a few gripes. I didn't like that they never even tried to make it a surprise that Boromir would fall to the power of the Ring. You pretty much know it's going to happen as soon as he shows up, particularly because of the casting. Sean Bean's built his career playing characters who are either traitors, heroes completely inadequate relative to the tasks at hand, or both. There were a few things here and there that Jackson handled with more blatant magic that I always pictured as being handled more subtly. For example when Gandalf breaks Saruman's debilitating hold on King Theoden, while reading the books I never pictured Theoden literally growing younger, but simply standing taller and straighter - seeming more youthful because of his mindset and physical presence. I didn't like that Denethor was treated as a 2-dimensional madman. I always saw him as a very tragic figure. They never even mention that it was one of the Palanthir that magically drove him insane. I mean, as much as Boromir was made to seem like a jerk at the Council of Elrond when he complained that the rest of the world was kept safe by the blood of his people, he wasn't wrong. Being the only thing standing between an idyllic fantasy world and its destruction at the hands of armies of demonic bastards would be enough to stress anyone out, even without a magical glowy thing helping drive you apeshit. And when Gandalf bonks Denethor upside the head because he was yelling for everyone to run, that was just stupid. Really. I mean, come on. Was that the day Will Farrell visited the set or something?
But at the end of the day, Jackson & co. made something astonishing, and differences from the source material be damned, they were true to the souls of the books, and that's what's important.
2. Dr. Strangelove (or How I Learned to Stop Worry and Love the Bomb) Directed by Stanley Kubrick
Best. Satire. Ever.
1. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind Directed by Michel Gondry
I don't usually seek out love stories, or like them. To be completely, unfortunately honest - I don't feel much like writing about this. Mainly for the same reason that I haven't been able to force myself to watch it since, well, if you read this blog regularly or know me in real life, then you know since when.
It's beautiful and funny and sweet. It will make you cry.
Oh, and after getting used to seeing Elijah Wood as a pure, cute little hobbit, seeing him play a sick little jerk who steals ladies underwear is awesome.
Friday, September 5, 2008
My Top 10 Reactions So Far To The Halloween Costume Poll
10. Wow. Twenty-two votes so far. You guys rock.
9. No love for Olaf the Troll? Racists.
8. Two people voted for Tom Bombadil?!?! Who the hell are you and why do you hate me?
7. I'm considering just closing the poll. I can't imagine there will be many more votes in 41 days.
6. Who the hell voted for Thor and why do you hate me? Do you have any idea how much Thor and Hulk hate each other? I'd have to beat myself! And not even in a nice way!
5. Thank you, someone, for voting for Maestro. Just glad to see someone here's read Future Imperfect. Well, either that or they just thought it would be funny to see me in green body paint. And it would be. But also sexy. Nah. Nah, mostly just funny.
4.
3. #4 was a response to the people who voted for Silent Bob.
2. Prince Vultan was an early favorite. Thankfully he got nudged out of the way faster than Fred Thompson.
1. Thank fucking GOD Sallah is winning. Now I gotta go find a fez.
9. No love for Olaf the Troll? Racists.
8. Two people voted for Tom Bombadil?!?! Who the hell are you and why do you hate me?
7. I'm considering just closing the poll. I can't imagine there will be many more votes in 41 days.
6. Who the hell voted for Thor and why do you hate me? Do you have any idea how much Thor and Hulk hate each other? I'd have to beat myself! And not even in a nice way!
5. Thank you, someone, for voting for Maestro. Just glad to see someone here's read Future Imperfect. Well, either that or they just thought it would be funny to see me in green body paint. And it would be. But also sexy. Nah. Nah, mostly just funny.
4.
3. #4 was a response to the people who voted for Silent Bob.
2. Prince Vultan was an early favorite. Thankfully he got nudged out of the way faster than Fred Thompson.
1. Thank fucking GOD Sallah is winning. Now I gotta go find a fez.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Top 10 Things I Have Against Glen n Danzig
A lovely lady has read a bit of my blog and asked me exactly what I have against Glen Danzig.
And so...
10. Another lovely lady with whom I work revealed to me yesterday that I have been misspelling Glen Danzig's name. Apparently, his first name ends with two n's. So fuck Glen Danzig for making me look stupid just so he could slap an extra consonant on his name. You are Glen Danzig on my blog, Glenn Danzig. Deal with it.
9. I have absolutely no proof to back this up, but I suspect that "Danzig" may not be his given name. If that's true, then it makes me wonder why he chose "Danzig." It may just be because he thought it sounded cool and somewhat sinister (and it does, there's no denying it). It also may be because - unless I'm forgetting the WWII history that I studied closely for a brief but intense period - the city of Danzig was the first major Polish city to fall the Nazis. Which brings up some questions, particularly considering Glen Danzig made his bones in a punk band and there's an unfortunate but undeniable relationship between punk and neo-nazism. I'd like to think that - assuming of course, that I am right that it is not his given name and that he is naming himself after the city - he chose the name as a defiant middle finger to Nazis and their ilk (as in "I am the spirit of the fallen city and I am coming back to kick your ass").
8. No one else was using his name in the way I use it, so hey, why the hell not. It's like a shot from the dark! You never saw it coming! You try to block my right and OH SHITKNUCKLE! HE'S A SOUTHPAW! I am ninja! Hear me...not.
(7 1/2. WHOA! "I am ninja! Hear me...not." That's fucking good. I'm writing that down some...oh already did. Nevermind.)
7. If you've heard his music, particularly if you've heard his stuff from his Misfits days, and especially particularly totally and absolutely as well as anally (eww) if you've heard the most controversial Misfits song ever, then you know he raped my mother today and it didn't matter much to him. That's pretty fucking low.
6.Glenn Glen Danzig.
5. In the Misfits, there was the song I referenced in #7 ("Last Caress", if you don't know it - and NO, for any of you metalheads, that isn't a Metallica original), there was a song in which he takes on the character of a shunned nerd begging his mother to let him go out and kill all the kids who shun him, and then there's the only Danzig (as in the band Danzig) song everyone knows - "Mother". Glen Danzig has some serious fucking Mommy issues.
4. I heard Sammy Hagar punched him in the face once at an awards ceremony, with no reprisals forthcoming. I'm sure the story is utter bullshit. It was told to me by the same woman who claimed she regularly hung out with Metallica and Megadeth in a New Jersey bar and that she once knocked a drunken Dave Mustaine on his ass for dissing the late Cliff Burton. But the memory of being forced to imagine the fictional fracas is enough to hurt. It's like when they askTinkerbell Legolas to tell them what the elves are singing about Magneto Gandalf. "For me the grief is still too near."
3. Hulk could totally kick his ass.
2. Rip Taylor.
(1 1/2. HA! Didn't see that coming, did ya?)
1. I have, in my time, loved the music of exactly three bands enough that you could reasonably argue I worshiped them to a perhaps unhealthy degree. Jane's Addiction, Nirvana, and The Misfits - the latter being originally fronted by Glen Danzig.
I am not going to make an argument that the music of The Misfits is better or worse than that of the other two bands. It would be like arguing whether gravity was cooler than relativity or something. It'd just be silly.
(gravity's way cooler)
What I can say, however, is that my love for the music of The Misfits is somehow purer than that which I have for Nirvana or Jane's Addiction.
By "pure" I mean that out of the three bands, The Misfits are the only band whose music was and is enough for me. I didn't and don't want posters. I didn't and don't want to read every article written about them. I didn't and don't care about any feuds they may have waged with other bands, what critics did and didn't like them, who influenced them or who they influenced. Fuck their t-shirts. Give me their albums.
Likely, this is at least in part because The Misfits lived and died before I ever knew who the hell they were. I had no chance - as is the embarrassing case with my love for Nirvana - to hunt down magazines and books with their pictures and put together obsessive and, to anyone who wasn't an angsty and lonely teen while Kurt still had a throat with which to scream, downright disturbing collages of Kurt, and Krist, and Dave, but mostly Kurt. It wasn't like when I read in Spin that Kurt hated Pearl Jam, and so I decided that I hated Pearl Jam. Or like when I read in the authorized biography Come As You Are that Kurt no longer hated Pearl Jam, and so I no longer hated Pearl Jam. Or like - as you may have noticed and which I honestly just noticed just now while reading back what I'd written - while I would never feel comfortable enough to refer to Glen Danzig as just Glen or even Glenn, I somehow am absolutely fine referring to Cobain as just plain old Kurt. Like he was living downstairs and we hung out and listened to Misfits albums together.
I can't tell you anything about the history of The Misfits. I can tell you their frontman was Glen Danzig and that's about it. I can't tell you the names of any other band member.
They have a song called "London Dungeon." I hadn't heard it in a while and had a strong urge to find it. I didn't find the original but I saw I had downloaded a cover of it along with a bunch of other Misfits cover songs on the tribute album Violent World. Prong covers "London Dungeon" in a pretty uninteresting way, kind of like a more robotic White Zombie, but the lyrics reminded me of what I thought the first time I heard the song. The lyrics made me think that the song didn't refer to an actual dungeon, but that somebody had dissed The Misfits. In particular, that someone had dissed The Misfits for not being more like the bands of the British punk scene. And so Danzig defiantly informed his critics that "I don't wanna be in your London Dungeon! I don't wanna be in your British Hell!"
I mention this not because I'm right. I have no idea if I'm right. I have no real basis for my theory. I have not read a single article on their music.
I mention this because "London Dungeon" is the ONLY Misfits song I have ever bothered to sit and think about, to dissect, and to analyze. That may not mean much to you, but you're reading a blog written by a man who dissects and analyzes FUCKING. EVERYTHING. I made my way through college applying literary theory to Black Lightning and Captain America comics. I am someone who will tell you that I will not read Spider-Man because I'm tired of Jesus Christ swinging around buildings and beating up muggers. I don't watch Batman Begins and think "wicked fx dude!" I watch it and think about how interesting it is that the director and writer used Alfred, Lucius Fox, Ra's Al Ghul, Jim Gordon, and even Carmine Falcone as warring father figures fighting over dominance for the absent father Bruce Wayne tortures himself over. I am a pop culture dissecting machine. I am the Borg. Resistance is silly.
But not The Misfits. I just don't do it. I don't care. I don't know all of their lyrics. I don't care about the lyrics I can't discern. I don't look them up. They sing about zombies and aliens and alien zombies and people who eat brains and complain that brains get tedious after nothing but brains. And they do it all with melodies that sound happier than Bill Clinton in a cigar shop, and subconsciously convince you that somehow the song about the guy who's controlling space zombies is actually a fucking love song. They are fucking beautiful. They are the sole pop culture beast in my life which I leave to mill about the wild as they will without probing them anally or tagging them with electronic locators. I don't dog them like an acting coach about their motivations and goals. I just love them. Unconditionally.
And what happens? They reform. Without Danzig.
The result?
They actually covered "Monster Mash".
Monster Mash.
I'm sure it isn't Danzig's fault. But like I said, I don't know the names of the rest of them, so he's all I have to blame.
(0. Dear Mr. Glenn Danzig. If by chance you read this, which I doubt, I'm just being silly. Except for the long-winded and cuss-tinged sentimentality of reason #1. That stuff's true. Oh, and the Hulk probably could beat you up. If he was real. Which he isn't. But if he was, he could. No offense. I just use your name because I think it's funny to plop a name down in my lists which has absolutely nothing to do with the matter at hand - whether the matter at hand is why women should have sex with me, or why ninjas are better than pirates, or rice, or Batman. Or even fellatio with ice cubes. Please don't hurt me. Sincerely - Someone who isn't really named Michileen Martin and doesn't live where you might find out Michileen Martin lives.)
(-1. Hey, look at the date! Happy Birthday Me. You old fuck.)
(-2. If you want to give me a birthday present, please read yesterday's post. Ladies pay special attention to reason #2. Oh and reason #1)
(-3. I have a tendency to ramble.)
And so...
10. Another lovely lady with whom I work revealed to me yesterday that I have been misspelling Glen Danzig's name. Apparently, his first name ends with two n's. So fuck Glen Danzig for making me look stupid just so he could slap an extra consonant on his name. You are Glen Danzig on my blog, Glenn Danzig. Deal with it.
9. I have absolutely no proof to back this up, but I suspect that "Danzig" may not be his given name. If that's true, then it makes me wonder why he chose "Danzig." It may just be because he thought it sounded cool and somewhat sinister (and it does, there's no denying it). It also may be because - unless I'm forgetting the WWII history that I studied closely for a brief but intense period - the city of Danzig was the first major Polish city to fall the Nazis. Which brings up some questions, particularly considering Glen Danzig made his bones in a punk band and there's an unfortunate but undeniable relationship between punk and neo-nazism. I'd like to think that - assuming of course, that I am right that it is not his given name and that he is naming himself after the city - he chose the name as a defiant middle finger to Nazis and their ilk (as in "I am the spirit of the fallen city and I am coming back to kick your ass").
8. No one else was using his name in the way I use it, so hey, why the hell not. It's like a shot from the dark! You never saw it coming! You try to block my right and OH SHITKNUCKLE! HE'S A SOUTHPAW! I am ninja! Hear me...not.
(7 1/2. WHOA! "I am ninja! Hear me...not." That's fucking good. I'm writing that down some...oh already did. Nevermind.)
7. If you've heard his music, particularly if you've heard his stuff from his Misfits days, and especially particularly totally and absolutely as well as anally (eww) if you've heard the most controversial Misfits song ever, then you know he raped my mother today and it didn't matter much to him. That's pretty fucking low.
6.
5. In the Misfits, there was the song I referenced in #7 ("Last Caress", if you don't know it - and NO, for any of you metalheads, that isn't a Metallica original), there was a song in which he takes on the character of a shunned nerd begging his mother to let him go out and kill all the kids who shun him, and then there's the only Danzig (as in the band Danzig) song everyone knows - "Mother". Glen Danzig has some serious fucking Mommy issues.
4. I heard Sammy Hagar punched him in the face once at an awards ceremony, with no reprisals forthcoming. I'm sure the story is utter bullshit. It was told to me by the same woman who claimed she regularly hung out with Metallica and Megadeth in a New Jersey bar and that she once knocked a drunken Dave Mustaine on his ass for dissing the late Cliff Burton. But the memory of being forced to imagine the fictional fracas is enough to hurt. It's like when they ask
3. Hulk could totally kick his ass.
2. Rip Taylor.
(1 1/2. HA! Didn't see that coming, did ya?)
1. I have, in my time, loved the music of exactly three bands enough that you could reasonably argue I worshiped them to a perhaps unhealthy degree. Jane's Addiction, Nirvana, and The Misfits - the latter being originally fronted by Glen Danzig.
I am not going to make an argument that the music of The Misfits is better or worse than that of the other two bands. It would be like arguing whether gravity was cooler than relativity or something. It'd just be silly.
(gravity's way cooler)
What I can say, however, is that my love for the music of The Misfits is somehow purer than that which I have for Nirvana or Jane's Addiction.
By "pure" I mean that out of the three bands, The Misfits are the only band whose music was and is enough for me. I didn't and don't want posters. I didn't and don't want to read every article written about them. I didn't and don't care about any feuds they may have waged with other bands, what critics did and didn't like them, who influenced them or who they influenced. Fuck their t-shirts. Give me their albums.
Likely, this is at least in part because The Misfits lived and died before I ever knew who the hell they were. I had no chance - as is the embarrassing case with my love for Nirvana - to hunt down magazines and books with their pictures and put together obsessive and, to anyone who wasn't an angsty and lonely teen while Kurt still had a throat with which to scream, downright disturbing collages of Kurt, and Krist, and Dave, but mostly Kurt. It wasn't like when I read in Spin that Kurt hated Pearl Jam, and so I decided that I hated Pearl Jam. Or like when I read in the authorized biography Come As You Are that Kurt no longer hated Pearl Jam, and so I no longer hated Pearl Jam. Or like - as you may have noticed and which I honestly just noticed just now while reading back what I'd written - while I would never feel comfortable enough to refer to Glen Danzig as just Glen or even Glenn, I somehow am absolutely fine referring to Cobain as just plain old Kurt. Like he was living downstairs and we hung out and listened to Misfits albums together.
I can't tell you anything about the history of The Misfits. I can tell you their frontman was Glen Danzig and that's about it. I can't tell you the names of any other band member.
They have a song called "London Dungeon." I hadn't heard it in a while and had a strong urge to find it. I didn't find the original but I saw I had downloaded a cover of it along with a bunch of other Misfits cover songs on the tribute album Violent World. Prong covers "London Dungeon" in a pretty uninteresting way, kind of like a more robotic White Zombie, but the lyrics reminded me of what I thought the first time I heard the song. The lyrics made me think that the song didn't refer to an actual dungeon, but that somebody had dissed The Misfits. In particular, that someone had dissed The Misfits for not being more like the bands of the British punk scene. And so Danzig defiantly informed his critics that "I don't wanna be in your London Dungeon! I don't wanna be in your British Hell!"
I mention this not because I'm right. I have no idea if I'm right. I have no real basis for my theory. I have not read a single article on their music.
I mention this because "London Dungeon" is the ONLY Misfits song I have ever bothered to sit and think about, to dissect, and to analyze. That may not mean much to you, but you're reading a blog written by a man who dissects and analyzes FUCKING. EVERYTHING. I made my way through college applying literary theory to Black Lightning and Captain America comics. I am someone who will tell you that I will not read Spider-Man because I'm tired of Jesus Christ swinging around buildings and beating up muggers. I don't watch Batman Begins and think "wicked fx dude!" I watch it and think about how interesting it is that the director and writer used Alfred, Lucius Fox, Ra's Al Ghul, Jim Gordon, and even Carmine Falcone as warring father figures fighting over dominance for the absent father Bruce Wayne tortures himself over. I am a pop culture dissecting machine. I am the Borg. Resistance is silly.
But not The Misfits. I just don't do it. I don't care. I don't know all of their lyrics. I don't care about the lyrics I can't discern. I don't look them up. They sing about zombies and aliens and alien zombies and people who eat brains and complain that brains get tedious after nothing but brains. And they do it all with melodies that sound happier than Bill Clinton in a cigar shop, and subconsciously convince you that somehow the song about the guy who's controlling space zombies is actually a fucking love song. They are fucking beautiful. They are the sole pop culture beast in my life which I leave to mill about the wild as they will without probing them anally or tagging them with electronic locators. I don't dog them like an acting coach about their motivations and goals. I just love them. Unconditionally.
And what happens? They reform. Without Danzig.
The result?
They actually covered "Monster Mash".
Monster Mash.
I'm sure it isn't Danzig's fault. But like I said, I don't know the names of the rest of them, so he's all I have to blame.
(0. Dear Mr. Glenn Danzig. If by chance you read this, which I doubt, I'm just being silly. Except for the long-winded and cuss-tinged sentimentality of reason #1. That stuff's true. Oh, and the Hulk probably could beat you up. If he was real. Which he isn't. But if he was, he could. No offense. I just use your name because I think it's funny to plop a name down in my lists which has absolutely nothing to do with the matter at hand - whether the matter at hand is why women should have sex with me, or why ninjas are better than pirates, or rice, or Batman. Or even fellatio with ice cubes. Please don't hurt me. Sincerely - Someone who isn't really named Michileen Martin and doesn't live where you might find out Michileen Martin lives.)
(-1. Hey, look at the date! Happy Birthday Me. You old fuck.)
(-2. If you want to give me a birthday present, please read yesterday's post. Ladies pay special attention to reason #2. Oh and reason #1)
(-3. I have a tendency to ramble.)
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Top 10 Things I Hope I Get For My Birthday Tomorrow
10. Diet Pepsi
9. A Kindle
8. Money
7. A car
6. A new queen-sized mattress
5. A small card verifying that a friend or family member has struck my least favorite charity in the groin in my name
4. Full set of samurai battle armor, including laser rifle
3. Someone else to do my damn top 10 list for me
2. Fellatio
1. All of the above, but with ice cubes
9. A Kindle
8. Money
7. A car
6. A new queen-sized mattress
5. A small card verifying that a friend or family member has struck my least favorite charity in the groin in my name
4. Full set of samurai battle armor, including laser rifle
3. Someone else to do my damn top 10 list for me
2. Fellatio
1. All of the above, but with ice cubes
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Top 10 Reasons Why David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest Is Pissing Me Off
10. My hardcover copy of Infinite Jest is close to 1,000 pages long - close to 1100 if you count the footnotes. I'm a little over 150 pages into the thing and am reminded of the exact moment when, as a teenager, I decided to stop reading Stephen King. The last King novel I bothered with was The Tommyknockers. Somewhere between 200 and 250 pages into the thing, I realized I had yet to get the slightest inkling of what the fuck was going on. All I remember now is that some woman was digging up something in the woods, some poet was heading to the woman who was digging up the thing, and some guy was fantasizing about titfucking a postal worker. While I had enjoyed other phone-book-length works by King like It and The Stand, The Tommyknockers just didn't hold the same interest and the effort hardly seemed worth it. I mentally made a note that if I ever became a bestselling author I wouldn't hate my editors as much as King obviously did, and probably went and read a comic book.
9. If you read my blog a couple of days ago you might recall that I have recently decided, in order to help my writing, to keep a notebook with me while reading so that I can mark down any words I don't know the definitions to and find the meanings later. Infinite Jest is making this ridiculously hard. I've filled over two pages of a notebook - with two rows per page - with words found in only 66 pages of Infinite Jest. Crepuscular. Murate. Mythopoeia. Carminative. Agnate. Erumpent. Ileum. Pimatribe. Sangfroid. Creosote. Osseous. And I can guess the meanings of most of the words by how he uses them, but I said I would look them up and write them down, and if I want to stick to the code I have to do it. Verbose bastard.
8. As mentioned in #10, though a novel, Infinite Jest has approximately 100 pages of footnotes. Many simply clarify references to real and (maybe, I don't even know) fictional drugs. But some are actually chapters all to themselves. It can get a little frustrating finding your place in the story after spending Hulk knows how long reading the damn footnotes.
7. Because of the footnotes, I'm actually using two bookmarks - one for the story and one for the footnotes section. I just don't like carrying the thing around. I feel like people are going to see me with this big-ass book with two bookmarks in them and think I either read novels in a very strange manner, or that I'm just arepublican moron.
6. Reading a page of Infinite Jest is not like reading a page of another novel. It is sometimes a bit like reading 19th century British literature in that Wallace finds ways to make sentences last for days. Many chapters are just one long, square, daunting paragraph. And each paragraph contains at least a half-dozen sentences that stretch on and on, particularly when he uses the voice of one of his more uneducated characters and purposely misspells every other word in doing so. Like writing "pernt" instead of "point."
5. I try to read at least a novel a week. I read a lot, but I'm no speed reader. And I limit myself to one novel in part because I'm usually also trying to read one non-fiction book and perhaps a book of poetry or drama at the same time. I worked it out. Reading Infinite Jest in one week would mean reading around 150 pages of it per day. I could read 150 pages of just about any novel in a day, but not Infinite Jest. So I decided to give myself two weeks for it instead. That means about 66 pages per day. And it's still a fucking monster. I've considered extending it to three weeks, but Christ I'd like to read another novel sometime this year.
4. No Hulk.
3. Glen Danzig.
2. In spite of everything, it truly is an incredible novel. So, unlike The Tommyknockers, I just can't shove it back in my bookcase and forget it.
1. At one point I find myself reading one of the longer footnotes listing the filmography of the main character's dead father, which include things like documentaries interviewing actors who are named John Wayne but are not the John Wayne everyone knows about, realize the music I'm blasting in my living room is a punk-tinged, surf-rock instrumental by the only band I like whose name ends with a question mark - Man or Astroman?, and the only other band I know whose name ends in a question mark is Therapy? and they suck though their cover of "Where Eagles Dare" by The Misfits is actually not bad - that the name of the instrumental is "The Man from F.U.C.K. Y.O.U.," and realize that no, no, I really AM one strange motherfucker.
9. If you read my blog a couple of days ago you might recall that I have recently decided, in order to help my writing, to keep a notebook with me while reading so that I can mark down any words I don't know the definitions to and find the meanings later. Infinite Jest is making this ridiculously hard. I've filled over two pages of a notebook - with two rows per page - with words found in only 66 pages of Infinite Jest. Crepuscular. Murate. Mythopoeia. Carminative. Agnate. Erumpent. Ileum. Pimatribe. Sangfroid. Creosote. Osseous. And I can guess the meanings of most of the words by how he uses them, but I said I would look them up and write them down, and if I want to stick to the code I have to do it. Verbose bastard.
8. As mentioned in #10, though a novel, Infinite Jest has approximately 100 pages of footnotes. Many simply clarify references to real and (maybe, I don't even know) fictional drugs. But some are actually chapters all to themselves. It can get a little frustrating finding your place in the story after spending Hulk knows how long reading the damn footnotes.
7. Because of the footnotes, I'm actually using two bookmarks - one for the story and one for the footnotes section. I just don't like carrying the thing around. I feel like people are going to see me with this big-ass book with two bookmarks in them and think I either read novels in a very strange manner, or that I'm just a
6. Reading a page of Infinite Jest is not like reading a page of another novel. It is sometimes a bit like reading 19th century British literature in that Wallace finds ways to make sentences last for days. Many chapters are just one long, square, daunting paragraph. And each paragraph contains at least a half-dozen sentences that stretch on and on, particularly when he uses the voice of one of his more uneducated characters and purposely misspells every other word in doing so. Like writing "pernt" instead of "point."
5. I try to read at least a novel a week. I read a lot, but I'm no speed reader. And I limit myself to one novel in part because I'm usually also trying to read one non-fiction book and perhaps a book of poetry or drama at the same time. I worked it out. Reading Infinite Jest in one week would mean reading around 150 pages of it per day. I could read 150 pages of just about any novel in a day, but not Infinite Jest. So I decided to give myself two weeks for it instead. That means about 66 pages per day. And it's still a fucking monster. I've considered extending it to three weeks, but Christ I'd like to read another novel sometime this year.
4. No Hulk.
3. Glen Danzig.
2. In spite of everything, it truly is an incredible novel. So, unlike The Tommyknockers, I just can't shove it back in my bookcase and forget it.
1. At one point I find myself reading one of the longer footnotes listing the filmography of the main character's dead father, which include things like documentaries interviewing actors who are named John Wayne but are not the John Wayne everyone knows about, realize the music I'm blasting in my living room is a punk-tinged, surf-rock instrumental by the only band I like whose name ends with a question mark - Man or Astroman?, and the only other band I know whose name ends in a question mark is Therapy? and they suck though their cover of "Where Eagles Dare" by The Misfits is actually not bad - that the name of the instrumental is "The Man from F.U.C.K. Y.O.U.," and realize that no, no, I really AM one strange motherfucker.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Top 10 Things I Want To Do Today
10. See the look on the face of my co-worker when he finds out we're televising a slide with his picture asking our listeners to call him up and wish him a Happy Labor Day.
9. Write.
8. Read.
7. Stumble upon some kind of horrible accident in which the surviving beautiful women need immediate medical attention - the medical attention in question involving allowing them to perform fellatio while using ice cubes.
6. See Dick Cheney walking down the street, flip him the bird and say, "Hey Cheney! Up your mother!"
5. Fight evil.
4. Foil the robbery of a truck delivering Diet Pepsi and be rewarded with a lifetime supply of Diet Pepsi. Also, enjoy fellatio with ice cubes from the beautiful yet lonely female truck driver.
3. Sleep.
2. Leap tall buildings in a single bound and, more importantly, survive the landing.
1. After getting a healthy nap, waking myself up with my bottomless keg of Diet Pepsi, writing an award-winning short story while simultaneously reading 3 other novels, unleash my samurai skills on an evil tyrant who has kidnapped a beautiful princess atop a tall building - which necessitates my leaping the tall building in a relatively small number of bounds - kill the bastard, ready myself to accept the rewarding love of the princess who turns out to be a demon in disguise, kill her stupid ass, but then find the REAL princess and her young but legal sister, older and experienced mother, and all her drunk friends with bad eyesight and low standards, and then the fellatio with ice cubes. Afterwards, we celebrate the afterglow of love by finding Dick Cheney and simultaneously flipping him the bird and yelling "Hey Cheney! Up your mother!"
9. Write.
8. Read.
7. Stumble upon some kind of horrible accident in which the surviving beautiful women need immediate medical attention - the medical attention in question involving allowing them to perform fellatio while using ice cubes.
6. See Dick Cheney walking down the street, flip him the bird and say, "Hey Cheney! Up your mother!"
5. Fight evil.
4. Foil the robbery of a truck delivering Diet Pepsi and be rewarded with a lifetime supply of Diet Pepsi. Also, enjoy fellatio with ice cubes from the beautiful yet lonely female truck driver.
3. Sleep.
2. Leap tall buildings in a single bound and, more importantly, survive the landing.
1. After getting a healthy nap, waking myself up with my bottomless keg of Diet Pepsi, writing an award-winning short story while simultaneously reading 3 other novels, unleash my samurai skills on an evil tyrant who has kidnapped a beautiful princess atop a tall building - which necessitates my leaping the tall building in a relatively small number of bounds - kill the bastard, ready myself to accept the rewarding love of the princess who turns out to be a demon in disguise, kill her stupid ass, but then find the REAL princess and her young but legal sister, older and experienced mother, and all her drunk friends with bad eyesight and low standards, and then the fellatio with ice cubes. Afterwards, we celebrate the afterglow of love by finding Dick Cheney and simultaneously flipping him the bird and yelling "Hey Cheney! Up your mother!"
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