Monday, June 29, 2009

Apocalypse over Manhattan?


This place is starting to feel like a funeral home. Yes, I know Billy Mays the oxyclean guy died, but I can't bring myself to post one more R.I.P. on here. Sorry Billy.
Not to mention Ed McMahon. Who would have every thought that cracked out Amy Winehouse would have outlived them all?

On Friday, after being soaked to the bone in a rainstorm, I paid a visit to the lovely Ms. Beverly and listened to old records as we tend to do. As I was leaving, we were both commenting on the beautiful light reflecting the sunset from a neighboring building. When I reached the street, I knew something was fishy, because people had stopped their cars and were hanging out their windows taking pictures of the sky.

I looked up and about peed my pants. It looked like a scene from the movie ghostbusters and I was sure that the Stay Puffed Marshmallow man was about to come stomping down the avenue crushing pedestrains and cars like ants. The image for this posting was taken by my camera, but to get a better idea of what was going on check out this great compilation of photos taken during the same evening.

I was unaware that there is a type of clouds called mammatus clouds. You learn something new every day.

R.I.P.
Michael Jackson
(1958-2009)



Well, the rumors were indeed true and Michael Jackson did in fact die last week from Cardiac arrest, though the factors that may have led to that are yet to be determined after one inconclusive autopsy and another underway.

It is so strange, the feeling in the air. I keep hearing Michael's music blasting out of car windows and bleeding from people's headphones in elevators. He was a musical genius and a tortured, misunderstood soul.

I have found myself defending him in conversations that bring up his various legal issues many relating to his unusually close relationships with children. He was never convicted of a crime related to pedophilia or child molestation, but he has been convicted multiple times in the eyes of many.

I have read articles about Michael where he discussed performing at the tender young age of 6 years old when his father would beat him and emotionally abuse him. I have read of his longing to just have a childhood, something he was never allowed. I think he must have lived a very strange and lonely existence. I hope that he is now at peace.

"Before I would hurt a child, I would slit my wrists. " -Michael Jackson

Thursday, June 25, 2009

?RIP? Michael Jackson????!!!?



Does TMZ know something the rest of us don't?

R.I.P.
Farrah Fawcett
(1947-2009)


As a child I adored the show Charlie's Angels.
Sadly today one of its stars, Farrah Fawcett died
after a three year battle with cancer.
my thoughts and much love go out to her family and friends
at this difficult time. May they find peace and acceptance for their loss.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Ceiling

Show me a picture of the ceiling in your old apartment.
I have hidden memories there.

Manscaping

We live in a brave new world where straight men known as metrosexuals get their
bikini line waxed and their eyebrows tamed a la asian threading.
Formerly the domain of women, plucking, shaving, tweezing and waxing are now commonplace among men.
Some men though need guidance. Perhaps this instructional video from Gillette is a good starter course.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Tomorrow is Far



I am a huge fan of Regina Spektor.
She is adorably quirky and skillfully witty as a songwriter.
Her latest album is scheduled for release Tomorrow and is titled Far.
You can stream the entire album on NPR's website.

Success is a tricky thing. Many musicians begin their careers with a unique style that becomes more homogenized and commercialized over time. Record labels find these beautiful rough gems and then sand them down until there is barely anything left that is individual or recognizable. Regina Spektor is her own brand of wacky and heartwarming with a view of the world that often reminds the listener of a child's view of the world. I have not yet had the chance to listen to all of Far, but I do fear for Regina Spektor and her music that she is at risk as the beautiful gem that she is of being commercialized to a point that compromises her artistry. I hope this is not the case as I have immense respect for her talent and her ability to craft songs that at times successfully break my heart.

Meredith Monk- Churchyard Entertainment

I was recently at the apartment of Mr. Carpentier discussing all manner of things when he mentioned this woman, Meredith Monk whose work he had seen performed at Jacob's Pillow in the Berkshires. I have a fondness for the Berkshires, having visited there at the age of 13. Coming from Kansas at the time, it was like a cultural treasure chest.

Anyhoo, Meredith Monk is a musician, filmaker, dancer, choreographer, etc. etc.
I think there is such an amazing humor reflected in the piece below. It reminds me a bit of Monty Python, but is brilliant in its own right.

I present to you Churchyard Entertainment from Book of Days.



To explore Meredith's work further, you can visit her website:
meredithmonk.org

Friday, June 12, 2009

A Slow Day For News


Nothing of any importance must have happened today. I clicked on CNN's Website to see if anything had exploded or if there was some new strain of goat flu perhaps. Maybe Miley Cyrus had gotten a tattoo or Paris Hilton had stopped using the word hot to describe everything. What I discovered from my brief adventure in pointing and clicking my way toward pounding a few nails in print journalism's coffin was that one of CNN's top headlines was "Dog Eats Bag of Pot, Gets High".

It's great to know that CNN is tackling the really important stories that shape all of our lives. It's thought provoking journalism like this that restores my faith in the integrity of mainstream news.

Tuesday, June 09, 2009

Daddy (lyrics)

Hookers and Booze
no matter which way you choose
you know you're gonna lose.
You're gonna lose.

you've got car wrecks
and credit card debts
and fingers stained from cigarettes
and I've got the blues in 5,000 hues.

Daddy
I don't want to be your
Daddy
I don't need to be your
Daddy
you're supposed to be my
Daddy

Daddy
I don't want to be your
Daddy
I don't need to be your
Daddy
you're supposed to be my
Daddy

Stick a quarter in the slot
for every minute you would like the bed to purr
with your new her
cheap motels ain't got whistles or bells
but you seem to thing that you have found the cure
Don't be so sure.

Daddy
I don't want to be your
Daddy
I don't need to be your
Daddy
you're supposed to be my
Daddy

Daddy
I don't want to be your
Daddy
I don't need to be your
Daddy
you're supposed to be my
Daddy

And now a word from our sponsor

Without shameless begging, independent musicians would surely starve.