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I've had occasion to reflect on President Reagan's legacy this week and I have to say that although I was never a fan of his politics or his administration, I think putting his likeness on the three-dollar bill is a fine idea.

In any case, I'm just grateful that we still have Dick Nixon to kick around.


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oh my golly!


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Some old stuff:

Travel Guide
(Excerpt, Ch. 11: Costa Rica)

Book Review
The Day After Tomorrow

Elizabeth Taylor Photo Gallery

More old junk I can't seem to throw away


May 7, 2004

WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?

Hi. Welcome to my fancy new look. I sorta fixed up the links page too. I guess. So it's a big whoop day here at Metascene. Big whoop day for your ass. And, of course, for mine too.

Also, you should read the Arthur Miller thing.


CACI Job Listing: Special Security Officer-- Baghdad, Iraq

"Required: Successful candidate must have an (sic) bachelors degree or equivalent and five to seven years of related experience...Strong interpersonal skills are required."

Crap. I just saw a link to a better CACA job listing posted on Metafilter. Heh. Oh well. Never mind. As you were.

In any case, it seems like they could also use a proofreader.


April 30, 2004

Why I Continue to Write by Hubert Selby, Jr (LA Weekly, 1999)

"Being an artist doesn’t take much, just everything you got. Which means, of course, that as the process is giving you life, it is also bringing you closer to death. But it’s no big deal. They are one in the same and cannot be avoided or denied. So when I totally embrace this process, this life/death, and abandon myself to it, I transcend all this meaningless gibberish and hang out with the gods. It seems to me that that is worth the price of admission."

 


Hubert Selby, Jr. eulogy by Nick Tosches

 


Only the Dead Know Brooklyn by Thomas Wolfe (New Yorker, 1935)

Thoughtfully provided by Steven Cullinane's log24.com web journal.

 


Magpie (arthurmag.com)

Just in case you missed Thurston Moore's NY Times Op-Ed piece on Kurt Cobain.

Also: Jack Endino on Kurt Cobain

 


Frank Sinatra mug shot

In 1938, Sinatra was arrested and charged with seduction. Boy, what I wouldn't give to be charged with seduction. Even just once.

 


The Chelsea Affect by Arthur Miller (Granta 78, June 2002)

In 1949, Miller won the Pulitzer Prize for Death of a Salesman. Boy, what I wouldn't give to have been married to Marilyn Monroe. Even just once.

 


Interview with Greg Ginn of Black Flag by Mark Prindle

Heh. Yeah. That Henry Rollins. I always have to be careful because whenever his name comes up, I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes because, you know, some folks like him. Which is fine. Really!

Also: More interview here

 


Rock and Roll Confidential Hall of Douchebags

Funny band publicity photos! People are dumb!

 


Every message Steve Albini has ever posted on the Electrical Audio message board

 


Goats on Acid by Sasha Archibald (Cabinet magazine)

"Hallucinogenic drugs were tested on a wide range of animal species in the 20th century; scientists extensively explored animals' physiological and behavioral reactions to LSD in particular. Under the influence of LSD, cats, for example, reportedly lose their fear of dogs, bat at the air, and salivate excessively. One LSD-affected baboon or chimpanzee in a group of unaffected animals creates havoc by disregarding the hierarchies of the group."

I like the change-y font thing here. It's Web-a-riffic!

 


Deerhoof MP3's

An internet MP3 jackpot bonanza! Just for you!

 


Smoking Dope with Thomas Pynchon by Andrew Gordon

On a rainy afternoon standing in the shadow of Fenway Park, I once shared a bowl of hash with Matt Lukin, which has to count for something-- doesn't it?

Found at Identity Theory

 


Sofia Coppola half-naked

I have a confession to make. Perhaps more than a few of you find yourselves here because Anil Dash has been generous enough to mention on his page when I post an update. Perhaps more than a few of you are thinking, "Why does Anil bother? What gives?" Well, after some soul-searching, I have decided to come clean-- to you, to Anil, even to my girlfriend. Some time ago, when I first contacted Anil via email, I led him to believe that I was, in fact, the guy who played Paul on the TV show "The Wonder Years."

I must now confess that This Is Not True.

What started as an innocent misunderstanding, a pathetic attempt to make myself More than I actually am, quickly snowballed into a nightmare of lies and deceit; forged memories of life on the set, tales of imaginary network wrap parties, lascivious stories of sexual conquests in my trailer, in the Denny's bathroom, behind the Dairy Queen. O monstrous delusions of grandeur! Needless to say, the whole business soon spiraled wildly out of control. I did not merely get carried away; I am the first to admit-- I lost touch with reality. I never meant for anyone to get hurt. I am embarassed and ashamed beyond by abilty to express. If I were to try to express my shame and horror it would just come out something like "Hallallaggazickkum!" or "Sheumnbahcahantiif!" In any case, please believe me when I say that I am truly sorry. I saw the angle and I played it-- until finally, it played me. A painful lesson but perhaps a necessary one.

Anyway, I found this picture at God Photo.

 


Is Our Movie Run Ronnie Run Overrated? You Bet It Is! by Bob Odenkirk (Chunklet)

"The day that we found out they weren't going to release it was a huge relief for David and I."

 


L. Ron Hubbard's college report card

Crap. Page not loading now. Try here.

 


Mumbleboy interview/feature written by Ilan Katin, designed by Thomas Bohm

Featured at Half Empty (Issue #2 even)

Also: Mumbleboy's flash video for Anjali's "7 X 8"

 


Some drawings and text you might like to look at in your spare time (Spellingmistakescostlives.com)

I wish I could write something here but I have to go now.

Thank you Art Prostitute

 


Cary Loren's Web of Eternity (Blastitude #13)

Holy cow.

 


HA. FUCK. I DON'T KNOW. APRIL SOMETHING I THINK. 2004 SUCKERS.

i KNOW IT'S sp[ring because i have been busy busy busy making and listening to cd's of dead rock stars. exclusively. if you are a rock stAR AND YOU ARE STILL ALIVE please be advised that i cannot be bothered. NOt that I have anything against your noodling or knob twisting (!) or whatever else you may be up to...i mean, fine, yes, that's quite an agenda and there are quarters (i am sure) where your cleverness and ambition hell even your innovative and noteworthy experiments with narrative structure and atmospheric ambivi ambulance t4c\hnology and what have you are applauded and appreciated and i'm sure that therwe are lost of beautiful people who wpould do just about anything to sleep with you or at least to pleasure you orally but it's spring and i have cd's to make and listent to so please puddle your wares elsewares. and thank you.

so, maybe you don't believe it's really me. i mean, you senD me email aNBD I DON'T EVEN REPLY. and it's been so long.

are you still out there? i am still here. i mean, i haven't been. and i probably aM SOMWHERE ELSE RIGHT NOW. but you know what i mean. what is it called when you say something but actually mean (please note the role intention plays here) something else-- perhaps even the opposite of what you are saying? Give up? It's aclled LYING. AND I AM AN EXCLENNT LIAR. AND SPILLER.

BUT SERIOUSLY, its realy me. remember how i always used to say, "anyway". See! Just like that! I told you it was me! How are you? I am swellQ!

Ohhhh. Crap. I am supposed to post links here nad stuff. Cool links to cool web sites and stuff! It's a fucking blog! Everytime i hear or read that word i die a little. but i fucking love it. and you do toooooo. blog blog blog blog. BLOG YOU MOTHERFUCKER!

so anyway, it's good to be back. par tof the reason i weas away for so long was ythat i wanted to, you know, re-invent and re-think my whole blog thing and i think i have finally come up with the NEW format/design (ahahahahaha. like i said before, blog you.) i dont have all the particulars worked out just yet, but i am thinking something along the linrs of posting lots of picutures of my cat. he is sneaky and mischevious but damn if he's not good looking! you should see him when he like lounges in the bathroom sink. boy, he loves that sink! that is going to be the first picurtrde i post. of my cat. my crappu cell phone has a supre crappy camera fweature and i alwyas thoyught that if i ever had a digital camera i would do all sodts of cool stuff but it turens out THAT ALLS I VER DO IS TAKE PICUTRES OF MY CAT. so we have that to look forward to.

ok. i have to go now. man, this is fun! its all coming back! i was a little worried that maybe the magicv was gone but as you can see, blog magic = fully intact!

OH YEAH1 I ALMOST FORGOT--- I HAVE ALSO DECIDED THAT THIS BBBLOG REPRESENTS THE FUTURE OF JOURNALISM. CAN YOU GET YOUR HEAD AROUND THAT? I AM A HJOURNBALIST. SO YOU BETTER WHATCH YR STEP. ( SEPECIALLY YUOU MR BUSH! CAUSE I AM POLITICAL LIKE THAT BITCH SO WATCH OUT!) ALSO, IF YOU ARE FAMOUS, YOU ARE HEEREBY ADVISED THAT I AM GOING TO MAKE FUN OF YOU. LOTS OF FUN OF YOU. AND I AM MERCILESS. IF YOU DONT BELIEVE ME, JUST ASK BEN AFFLECK! and you are peobaly like "ben who?" wich only serves to illustrate. winona ryder = a lesson for you. I AM MERCILESS. WITHOUT MERCY. JUST ASK MY CAT! ALOS-- SINCE I AM A JOURNALIST AND CRITIC AND STUFF CAN SOMEBODY PLEASE SEND ME FREE M,OVIE TICKETS AND STUFF LIKE THAT? I LIKE STUFF LIKE THAT.

OK. I realy ahve to go now.

 


Oct 23, 2003

Andy Warhol's birth certificate

Not feeling so good today. Don't feel like explaining anything to anyone. Mostly I feel sad. And cheated. And I keep thinking to myself, "Who am I to judge? What do I know about it anyway?" Even so, it feels terrible.

We got a kitten a week or so ago. We named it Peedi. It's about ten weeks old. The day we brought it home, John, a friend who lives in LA, in Silver Lake even, came to visit and sleep on our sad excuse for a sofa. This morning, I took Peedi (who we had previously had thought was a female) to get fixed. At first, the vet attendant told me Peedi was not ready to be fixed since only one of his, you know, kitty testicles had, um, descended but when I started to put my checkbook away, she managed to find the other one. I already felt pretty terrible about leaving the kitty with strangers with scalpels for the day but the thought of having him neutered before he even had a chance to get to know his masculinity was almost too much to bear. There was separation anxiety on all sides. And then I had to go to work, which is another story I don't really feel like getting into right now. I suppose work is supposed to be humiliating, that's why they give you money, right? Anyway, soon after I got to work, while i was preparing to deal with getting reprimanded for not attending a post-work dinner I was never informed about let alone invited to, I heard that he was dead, apparently by his own hand. I remember clearly, specificially being at work and hearing that Kurt had killed himself. You don't want to hear about Kurt Cobain? Me neither. I don't really feel like talking about him. Or Elliott. Or anything. I just feel terrible. I want to say fuck. I am thinking fuck, but I don't want to express myself that way. I thought about that scene with Luke Wilson in the Royal Tenenbaums movie. I fucking love that song. I read somewhere today that Frank Black really likes that song too. I thought about how underneath the surface of all of Warhol's paintings, no matter how colorful, how flowery or whatever, there is black. Fucking death and disaster. I miss all of these people. It just feels terrible when you lose touch with something that makes it possible to get up in the morning. Already, I dont' feel like getting up tomorrow. I don't feel like talking to anyone about it. I don't want to see if Entertainment Tonight or Access Hollywood or MTV will mention it. BUt I did look a bit online. Fucking terrible. I guess this means somehting to me. His lyrics are constantly running through my head. The guy could fucking write. He was brilliant. What a great songwriter. A great artist. I dont want to explain why I think so. I dont' care if you think so or not. I don't really feel like talking anymore. I actually tried to read the Kirkegaard thing I was so, impressed, by the either/or record. I remember the first time i heard angeles. I rmemebr the first time i saw him perform. Who am i to judge? What do i know about his life? who he was, what his experience was like. He made my life better in a real and tangible way. Is that corny? I dont care. Just terrible. I guess I do have emotions. Ok. I moved into a new apartment recently. That has heat. and a working bathroom that in not exposed to the elements. I got a job. that i dont relaly want to talk about. we got a kitten. I am guessing the kitten is about 10 weeks old. His name is Peedi. I feel terrible. and stupid. and sad. and i dont really feel like talking anymore.

 


July 22, 2003

Many of you have written to ask me what I have been doing these days, etc. You sound just like this, (super annoying whiny voice) "Hey man! What have you been doing?" or (stupid, irritating whiny voice) "Hey man! What are you up to?" You should hear yourself sometime. So annoying!

Anyway, I've been spending lots of time reading really really long important articles and interviews with big important intellectuals. These things are really super long. Way too long to actually read. BUT WAIT-- THIS IS THE BEST PART. IF YOU WOULD JUST SHUT YOUR MOUTH FOR A MINUTE AND LISTEN. FOR ONCE. SERIOUSLY. NO. I AM SERIOUS.

So, here is the good part! Since I am already pretending to have read these articles, I will just tell you, like in a nutshell!, just what is being talked about. In the articles. Which are linked below.

The White Man Unburdened by Norman Mailer (NYRB)

Hot damn! Norman Freaking Mailer! He is a big shot, believe you me. He's written lots of really long books. He wrote one book about one of the world wars (I forget which one) that was okay I guess. Kinda boring actually, despite the promise ot the title. I once bought a used paperback edition of Advertisements for Myself but the print was way too small to actually read so I just kept looking at the chapter titles and then I'd look at the cover a little and then at the back of the book. At least I think I did that. Maybe I never really owned that one. Maybe I'm thinking of something else. Anyway, I think he stabbed somebody once. Which isn't really funny in and of itself, but I think he stabbed them with a fork. Which makes it a little funny. He's pretty famous for that. Might have been a woman. Does that make it more or less funny? With or without fork? Male or female? All these intellectual gymnastics are making me dizzy! Anyway. This article rocks, even if old Norman Mailer strikes you as the type who drinks in order to prove something. Me? I got nothing to prove. To you or anybody. HA! Just kidding! I crave your approval slavishly! Crave!

Harold Bloom interview by Jennie Rothenberg (The Atlantic, July 2003)

The other night, Aleta and I were half-heartedly making our way to the local stadium seating megaplex to see the new Johnny Depp movie, but somebody got shot outside the theater and it was really crowded, the whole place filled up with kids, and not like kids like the old-fashioned cute kind of kids-- I mean the scary, let's not see this crappy movie tonight kind of scary kids, and like I said, the place was packed, so we decided skip the movie.

Anyway, turns out that across the street, the Boston Commons Shakespeare people were staging a production of Macbeth. So weird! I mean, here we are going to see the new special-effects movie version of a Shakespeare play when right across the street FOR FREE we can see live theater! So we strolled over and sat down on some benches and watched for a while. You couldn't hear too well or see too well from where we were sitting, but even so, it was pretty corny. You could just tell. Is it just me or is Shakespeare less corny on the page? I mean, when I read Shakespeare, I can really get into it, but when I see a play or whatever, I get all distracted, like by how sucky the dessert selection at the dinner theater buffet was. Anyway, here is a quote from the Harold Bloom interview:

"Holy crap. One of the neighbors is having really loud sex. Shhhh. Listen. Hee hee. Holy crap."

Interview with Julia Kristeva (NY Arts Magazine, 2001)

I love rock and roll. So put another dime in the juke box baby. I love rock and roll. So c'mon and take the time and dance with me.

Newspaper Morals by H.L. Mencken (The Atlantic, March 1914)

"Newspapers...(suck)."-- H.L. Mencken

 


White Stripes interview by Jim Jarmusch (Interview, May 2003)

I pretty much hate Interview magazine. I'm not sure why. I think in some weird way it represents a betrayal. Of my youth. Of my dreams. I mean, all of it. For what? So Nancy Reagan can be on the cover the month that Andy dies? OK, so maybe I don't even know who was on the cover of Interview the month that Andy died. And maybe I don't even remember the month or year that Andy died. But I do know he's dead, so that's something. Anyway, the whole hating Interview thing is probably just me being bitter. I am bitter. Always. Bitter.

 


Pictures from Paris Hilton's 21st Birthday Party at Studio 54

AND HERE ARE SOME MORE PICTURES. WE JUST LOVE THEM SO MUCH. I JUST LOVE THEM SO MUCH.

MORE PLEASE. JUST A LITTLE MORE. THAT'S ALL I WANT IS A LITTLE MORE OF THE HILTON SISTERS IN MY LIFE. PLEASE? HAVE MERCY! JUST A LITTLE MORE...YES...YES...GOOD...THEY ARE DANCING! THEY ARE SMOKING! THEY ARE TALKING ON CELL PHONES! THEY ARE POSING PLAYFULLY FOR PHOTOGRAPHS! SEE THEM POUT! SEE THEM POINT! SEE THEM SASHAY ACROSS THE FLOOR! NOW I REVEAL MY TRECHERY! I TRICKED YOU! I DON'T JUST WANT A LITTLE MORE, I WANT A LOT MORE! MORE MORE MORE! THAT IS THE CRY AND THE HUE! AND I WILL HAVE IT. BY GOD, I WILL HAVE IT ALL.

 


The America Story, Chapter 23: L.A. Confidential by Dan Peek

I spent way, way too long looking for naked pictures of Joni Mitchell. I am just stupid that way sometimes. Perhaps an image of a beatific and topless Joni Mitchell stretched out beside the pool of some 60's casualty rock star type would ease the bitterness into a more gentle, yeilding ambivalence. But no. Always. No.

 


I am trying to think of a reason why you should be reading any of this.

 


Old Hollywood phone book

I bet David Crosby's name has been crossed out of lots phone books. Makes me wonder how many phone books I have been crossed out of.

Also, I spent way, way too long looking for naked pictures of David Crosby.

 


Radiohead.tv

I keep hearing about how nobody's going to the Lollapalooza shows. I'd like to see Jane's Addiction one more time. The first Lollapalooza and the first time I saw Porno for Pyros are, to my recollection, two of the happiest times of my life. I mean, where I thought to myself, "Right now, there is no place I'd rather be, nothing I'd rather be doing." I know so because I remember at the first Lollapalooza, just as the sun was setting on a really hot Virginia summer afternoon, and we're standing there, tired and dusty (Nine Inch Nails played at like two in the afternoon, one of the most physically exhausting things I have ever heard in my whole entire life), looking at this impossible 30' high red velvet curtain covering the stage, waiting for Jane's Addiction to come on, watching all the kids slowly get into the Beethoven's Fifth that is fairly exploding out of the outdoor rock concert PA system, the heads at first were reluctant, questioning the Bee then slowly realizing Yes Yes Yes and then the opening rumble of "Up the Beach" and Perry strolls out and reminds us that despite the heat and the mud and the crowd that we are, at that moment, as happy as we could be and I remember thinking, "Yes Yes Yes."

Later, when we were stuck in some field/makeshift parking lot for like three hours waiting to get out and some of the kids decided first to overturn and then set fire to one of the parking field fella's cars and we all sat and watched the fire trucks try to make their way (for almost an hour) thru all the traffic to get to the fire, we were probably less happy, but not much.

It probably won't be like that this time, but I still want to go.

 


Hypnosis in Media: Advertisements for Hypnotism Books and Materials

 


A List of Fetishes

Sometimes I think I am pretty creative sexually. Well, in any case, I am good at the dirty talk part. I'm not too sure about my expertise in the more physical aspects of havingus sexus but I can make good with the dirty talk. But then I think maybe I just like to hear the sound of my own voice and maybe I'm actually sorta boring and not very imaginative, repeating the same old thing over and over again, re-hashing the same old bits and scenarios. When I start thinking that way, I simply convince myself that being boring and repetitive is part of the punishment I am doling out. "I will repeat myself and you will like it you filthy slut!" Doesn't always work, but what are you gonna do?

 


Please contact the voiceover department at either 310-859-4085 or 212-586-5100 for the username and password.

 


Ed Ruscha: An In-Depth Study of Lisp

I was looking for the introduction that guy who curated the Gerhard Richter: 40 Years of Painting retrospective wrote for the catalog and then got side-tracked into looking for an excerpt from some Ruscha book and now I'm just tired and don't really care anymore.

Thanks anyway John. Maybe next time.

 


Correspondence Art of Ray Johnson

I like the idea of mail art. Some of my friends do stuff like that. I am good at getting stuff in the mail, but not so good at sending stuff out. Sorry about that. But like I said, I am good at getting stuff. And I am grateful. Thank you.


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